#I like that she called him dr irons

[doesithavetobeaspider]

Steel #44 by Christopher Priest and Denys Cowan

[smuthospital]

🎃⭐️Texas Chainsaw Massacre x reader⭐️🎃

Art by: Minilev

Premise: You go hiking with a friend and this bitch has the audacity to leave you alone. You end up hitchhiking with some hippies, but their van gets a flat! Oh no! Good thing there's a farmhouse nearby. Maybe they can help

Note: I had this in the drafts for awhile. I decided to whip it out for halloween. Enjoy. Say one thing bad thats not constructive criticism and its a block. Tired of these fucking kids smh. Also, imagine everyone with a soulthern accent

-Dr. Smut

Minors DNI

Warning: Non-Con, side charicter death, mentions of gore, kidnapping, fem reader

"So uh..thanks for picking me up." You say with a nervous smile. You refrain from coughing as the strong smell of marijuana floods your nose. Right now, you're in a classic 70s Volkswagen van, hitchhiking through Texas. Your friend convinced you to go backpacking with her, but a quarterway through, she ditched you to continue the trip with her new boyfriend. Some junky she met at a gas station. You can't exactly turn tail and go home because she took the car, and stranded you in the middle of nowhere so, you had no choice, but to catch a ride with some hippies.

"No prob, sweet cheeks. Anything for a pretty lil' lady like yourself." The driver looks back at you for a moment and winks. You think he may like you. You cringe slightly. "Eddy has a crush on you! Ain't that right, Ed?" A girl next to you wearing a tie-dye crop top pokes Edds back a couple of times. "Well, who wouldn't?" He chuckles. You play with your fingers nervously. You've been driving along a dusty, desolate path through some empty part of Texas for a while now. You've always been perturbed by the idea of Texas. Americans and with their guns and hot temper and all. It seems you may have watched too many scary movies. You haven't seen a soul for miles, let alone a house, just tall grass and more tall grass.

The car suddenly jolts and you're all jostled around. The girl sitting next to you clings to you as the driver slams the brakes. You gasp for air, your heart pounding a mile a minute. "Huh!? W-what the!?" Edd shouts before hopping out to investigate. You cautiously slip out the back and join him. Edd lifts a spiked wire. It's still stuck in the now flat tire. "Some asshole must'a dropped it here while delivering somethin'," he says as he drops it back on the ground. It popped the back tires. You pull out your phone. No service. Of course.

"Do you have any spares?" You ask, hoping to get out of this creepy place. "Unfortunately these are the spares, sweet cheeks." He sighs. "Weren't you supposed to buy more, Ed?" Ann shouts from the window. "This is no time to argue! We have to get help!… Look, There's a farmhouse right there. Let's hope someone's home." He says, walking towards it.

You hesitantly follow them to the creepy house. "I'm gonna check the farm, you two knock on the door." Edd doesn't give anyone time to respond before he walks off. You walk up to the front door and Ann knocks. You feel like you're being watched. You shift from foot to foot nervously. A few minutes pass and no word. Not even a sound. "What the? Where's Edd? If no one was home, he should be back by now!" Ann looks around. You begin feeling incredibly anxious. "Let's go find that idiot," she says and walks off quickly, you follow behind her. You can't leave her to do it by herself so you agree. You walk over to the farm and see…the gate open.

"H..hello?" You call. "E-Edd?"…No response. The two of you cautiously walk into the house. It smells like wood and iron. You see a red smudge on the wall…weird. This is getting scary. "Ann…I think we sh-" You're cut off by a blood-curdling scream from Ann. You quickly go over to the open doorway she's looking at to see a horrific sight. Edd has been cut to pieces. You hold back bile in your throat and grab Ann. "Let's go!" You shout. She snaps out of her trance and follows you to the entryway, only for the two of you to halt in your tracks.

Standing there is a giant, his hulking frame filling the doorway. He's the scariest thing you've ever seen in your life. A mask covers half his face, and in his arms is a chainsaw. You make eye contact with the beast and scream. Ann yanks you deeper into the house, hoping to find an exit. The man follows you, hot on your trail. You see a back door and try to open it, but it's locked. Cassie then barely avoids losing her arm as she dodges the giant.

He hasn't tried to attack you yet. You grab a chair and smash it through a window. You pick up a plant and throw it at the man, who cornered Ann. He's completely unphased, but pauses and looks at you as if to warn you. You toss his warning to the wind and jump on his back. "Ann, go!" You scream. Ann runs towards the window but stops when another man shorter than the man you're currently on top of, smashes a hammer onto her head.

You hear a crack and she falls to the floor, limp. "Ann!" You cry. Your body was then slammed to the floor by the hulking, chainsaw-wielding psychopath. You whimper and crawl backwards. You hit a wall and he lifts his chainsaw towards you. You're thankful It's turned off. You close your eyes and wait for death. You feel the blade lightly touch your collarbone…and then gently move down between your breasts and to the junction between your spread legs…he rubs your thigh with the chainsaw lightly, as if thinking. You look up at him in confusion. He tosses the saw to the side and grabs your face in his large hand. He tilts your head from side to side, examining you.

"Think she's pretty, Tommy?" The man who just attacked Ann asked.

'Tommy', the giant holding your face grunts and nods. You're horrified. Does this monster think you're pretty? "Yeah, I agree, Tommy. Good thing you didn't turn her into dinner… though, I don't think you were gonna. You had your eye on her since their car landed in our road trap." He laughed. Trap!? This was all a setup!? Did he say dinner!? Your head is spinning.

Tommy looped his bur waist arm around your waist and hoisted you up, placing you on his shoulder like you weighed a small sack of potatoes. "H-hey! What are you doing? Put me down!" You shout, pounding your hands on his back, but it doesn't even look like he knows you're hitting him. You hear footsteps and look up to see an old woman looking over at you. “P-please help me” you whimper. She smiles down at you sweetly.

"Well, I do say, you sure found yourself a sweet little thing. Ain't that right, Thomas.” The hulking figure above you grunts in agreement. You cry as you realize she has no intention of helping you in the least. “She has a pretty voice too…Take care of my Tommy, girl!” She warns, glaring down at you. “Tommy. Get'er to pop out a few farmhands, will you?" All blood drains from your face. They…want you to…what? Tommy carries you down into a dark, creepy basement. You almost puke. You see dead bodies hanging from hooks and dismembered limbs and bones strewn about….is that Edd? You're carried down a hallway and into a room. The room is empty besides a dirty mattress in a corner. He throws you on the mattress and begins to undress you immediately.

You scream and try to stop him, but he's just too strong. "P-Please stop!" You cry. Tears flow down your cheeks and you hiccup. Tommy leans down and wipes away your tears, not calming you in the slightest. He strips you down to your bra and panties and takes a good look at you, drinking up your body. You can see the lust in his eyes. He grunts in excitement and removes his bloody apron. You curl your body up and hide yourself from him. He softly strokes your cheek and hugs you like you're a teddy bear. He's oddly gentle, but you feel he's losing patience. He taps your shoulder a few times, silently urging you to show yourself to him. when you don't, his taps become a little harder. He grunts in annoyance. He presses himself into you, trying to get closer. You feel his hard cock through his pants and try to shuffle back.

He grunts in frustration, yanking your arm and knees apart, forcing your body to reveal. You need to do something!…" Please,… don't hurt me, Tommy" He only stares into your eyes. You can see emotions swirl in his eyes before he lets go of you and stomps out of the room. Looks like he's giving you time to cooperate. You bring your hands to your face and sob. You look up. You have to get out of here! You hope to god you can do this. You get up and tip-toe towards the door as quietly as you can. You slowly open it and slide it open just enough for you to fit through, which proves to be quite difficult as it's very heavy. You don't know how the monster did it before.

You continue to quietly make your way down the dark hallway, missing the dark shadow to your side. You try not to look around too much at the carnage before making your way up the stairs. You find the window you previously broke now boarded up. You take a deep breath, preparing to make a run for the front door. You haven't heard anyone yet so you think you're still in the clear. You make it to the front door and just as you're about to try and open it, your body is slammed against the wall, your breath knocked out of you. You cough and groan. You feel dizzy. You look up to see Tommy staring down at you with a look of anger. Was he waiting for you to try to escape?

You grit your teeth before lifting your knee to knee him in the crotch, but he anticipates it and grabs your leg, lifting it. He makes space for himself between your legs and lets his large hands roam your bare midriff and up to your breasts where he proceeds to rip off your bra, revealing your chest to him. You whimper in pain and try to hide yourself, earning yourself a shove into the wall, banging your head slightly.

The corners of your eyes go dark for a few moments. Your head stops spinning when he leans down and slides his tongue up your cheek. His other hand reaches down and roughly grabs at your clothed cunt. He makes sounds of excitement once again. Saying you're terrified would be an understatement. You feel his fingers cup and wiggle around down there, not knowing what to do, but liking the feeling of doing it.

You again try to shove him off as best you can. He grunts in annoyance and moves the hand previously on your chest up to your throat. Your whimpers and please turn into choked gasps and gurgles as he squeezes. He gets even closer and you can feel something hard rub against your lower stomach. "Get her, Tommy, get her!" You hear from behind him. He grunts in response and tears off your underwear. He brings it to his nose and inhales. His eyes roll back a bit as if smelling the most heavenly scent imaginable.

You now realize he's probably never held a woman before and he's completely deprived of any sort of warm human touch. "Common, Tommy, gimme that! You get to have her, the least I should get is her undies!" His brother pleads. Tommy contemplates holding the small bit of cloth in front of him before tossing it back, which his brother catches and desperately presses to his face, moaning into the fabric like it's an oxygen mask.

Tommy grabs your hair and begins dragging you back down to the basement. You scream in pain and grab onto his hand for any relief as you're forced to the ground. "No! Please! Ahh Stop!" You cry out. He drags your naked body down the blood-crusted steps and makes his way back to the room you dread. He tosses you onto the mattress once again. By the time you manage to get up on your knees, you hear a clinking sound and turn to see him undoing his belt.

You crawl into the corner as he gets on his knees before you, his shadow casting over you. He unbuttons his shirt and lets it fall off. You now know that trying to inflict pain on him is futile. Muscles that scream he could crush you like a soda can. Not only is he as big as a fridge, but he also looks like an off-season pro wrestler. You can see a very prominent bulge struggling to free itself. The size of the tent itself is intimidating.

His eyes lock on yours as he slowly unzips his belt and frees his aching cock. You look away and feel his weight settle on the bed closer to you. You can feel his heavy breathing on the side of your face. He grabs your legs and yanks you beneath him, positioning himself at your entrance. You feel his bulbous tip rub up and down your folds. "Please…" Your eyes widen and you trail off as your eyes lower to what's prodding at your cunt. You want to look away, but morbid curiosity wins. It's almost unbelievable. His cock like himself, is too big. It's long, very thick and veiny. It looks like a beer can. You can just tell he's smiling under his mask.

He slowly pushes the tip in. You try to scoot back, but he grips your hips with his massive hands and pushes forward, but fails entry, seeming too big. He grunts in frustration. He tries again, this time managing to push the tip in. You scream. It hurts so bad. "No, y-you're too big!" you gasp, squirming in place. He holds your hips tighter and continues pushing forward, impaling you on his cock, all the way to the base.

Your mind blanks. You're unable to think cohesively. You're in so much pain. He lets out a groan of pleasure and doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size and just starts moving. It feels like your organs are moving around to accommodate his massive size. You look down to see a large bulge in your lower stomach. You whimper and groan as he thrusts. "W-why?" You croak. He looks up at you before lifting your knees, pressing them to your chest and leaning on you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you feel him push deeper into your womb, the tip of his cock threatening to push through your cervix. He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, cooing softly to you affectionately while playing with your hair as if to say 'I love you'.

You cry beneath him, moans being forced from your lips as his hips plow into yours. Tommy grabs your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. You can hear him making happy sounds of some sort between grunts. He suddenly picks you up and gets off the bed with you in his arms, skewering you on his cock. He raises you up and down like a human fleshlight. You uncontrollably moan into his shoulder. His hands grope your ass as he starts to force you up and down faster. It feels good. You can't help but feel shame.

He grunts loudly and forces himself as deep as he can. You whine as you feel a rush of hot cum flow into you. Rope after rope, he fills you up. You feel so hot inside. Your stomach bloats from the sheer volume he fucked into you. He pants and looks at you, rubbing your cheek with his. He slowly lifts you off his cock, cum pouring from your abused cunt before setting you down on the mattress. He covers you with a thick warm blanket and brushes your hair from your face, stroking it with his thumb lovingly. If you knew this was gonna be a one-way trip, you would've brought some pillows.

[bunnylovesani]

You Belong To Me

Summary: You find out about your husband Spencer’s affair with another woman. It's safe to say you don’t have the reaction either of them were expecting.

Content warnings: infidelity, voyeurism, facetime sex, humiliation, p in v sex, creampie

WC: 2.3k

“Who is she?” You shudder with disgust as you stare into the sunken eyes of your husband. He looked almost unrecognisable to you now that you’d learned of his betrayal. 

“Her name’s Maeve. She’s a geneticist who’s been helping me with those headaches.” He sighs resolutely, knowing there was no point attempting to hide this from you. He didn’t mean to let things escalate but you’d been going through a rough patch and Maeve was just so understanding- she embodied all the things you lacked.

“Did you fuck her?” Your voice trembled with anger, goosebumps piercing through your thin blouse as you braced yourself for his response. 

“No. It was a purely emotional affair.” He stated a little too coldly. 

“Ah. And I suppose that makes it alright, does it?” You scoffed, getting up from the sofa you were curled up on with Spencer mere minutes earlier before he came out with his crushing confession. 

“Of course not. There are no excuses.” He looked down, not daring to meet your appalled gaze. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.” 

“Spencer Reid speechless? I never thought I’d see the day.” You chuckle darkly, fidgeting with your wedding band. You loved him with all your heart, the day you said your vows was the happiest of your life- now that he’d broken his, you weren’t sure how much any of it really meant. 

“Were you going to leave me for her?” Against your best efforts, your voice broke with a pitiful crack that left Spencer with a pained expression on his handsome face. 

“No! No, I promise. I would never leave you.” He interjected, leaving no room for doubt. “She was just a distraction. You’re it for me.”

You sunk back into the plushy couch with a defeated sigh, unwelcome tears pricking your glossy eyes. 

“I don’t know, Spence…” You sniffled, beginning to slide the ring off your finger. 

“Baby.” He took your hands into his own as he dropped to his knees before you, still in his work suit. “I messed up. I messed up in the worst way possible. I’m a fucking idiot. But if you forgive me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please, my love. I’ll do anything.” 

An unfamiliar desperation tinged his voice that made your gut twist into an iron knot. He looked pathetic right now; kneeling on the floor with furrowed eyebrows as he pleaded to save his marriage. 

“I want you to call her.” You exhaled sharply after an excruciating moment of contemplation.

“You- what?” His forehead wrinkles deepened with shock. 

“You heard me. Call the bitch.” He gulped at your request and his eyes darted around frantically as he analysed every possible outcome.

“A video call. I want to see what the little homewrecker looks like.” You spat as he remained motionless, mouth agape and eyes narrowed. “Unless you’d rather get a divorce?” 

“I’ll do it.” He shook his head clumsily, rattled by the whole ordeal. 

“Wonderful. Come sit next to me and prop your phone up on the table.” You patted the spot besides you as Spencer stumbled over, still confused by your unpredictability. 

“Well? What are you waiting for? Start dialling.” You snapped snarkily as he scrolled through his phone with shaky hands. Locating her contact, his fingers hovered above the call button. 

“Dr. Donovan, huh?” You peered over. “The one you told me had been helping you with a case?” 

“Y-yeah.” He whispered ashamedly. 

“Now this I have to see.” You murmured bitterly as the line began to ring. 

“Spence, hi! Wasn’t expecting you to call at this time.” The bubbly voice of the other woman rang out through his speakers. Your eyes zeroed in on the pixelated image of a brunette woman with a choppy fringe. 

“Why, do you guys have a set time for your little calls? When I’m sleeping, perhaps?” You popped into the frame, grinning wildly. 

“Oh. H-hello. Spencer, what’s going on?” She looked to him for help but he just sat there resignedly, knowing he couldn't appease you both. 

“So you’re the one who’s been helping herself to my husband.” You chuckled disingenously. “I thought you’d be a lot prettier.” You neared the phone to get a better look. “Really, baby? Her?” 

Spencer looked away, not daring to say a word to his wife or his lover.

“And you? You don’t have anything to say?” You opened the floor to Maeve.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her cheeks reddened as she stuttered, her nauseating voice ricocheting off the walls and worming its way into your ears. 

“That’s okay. I don’t need you to talk. Just watch.” You hissed in such a searing way that it made her feel threatened and inclined to obey. 

Spencer looked up at you in confusion but his doubts were swiftly answered when you loosened his tie and ripped off his collared shirt with a murderous lust. 

“Baby, what-“

“You’re not going to say a word.” You smoothly replied, voice barely audible. 

You observed his sad eyes, entrenched with light crows feet that worsened with the weight of stress and regret. You weren’t sure how you were even going to begin to process his betrayal but right now, you had to take care of her first. What better way to drive home the point that he was yours than to show her? 

Unbuckling his heavy leather belt with an urgency you’d never felt, you glanced over to make sure Maeve was watching. Sure enough, the demure woman couldn’t peel her eyes away from the sight unfolding before her. 

As you pulled down his pleated black trousers, you unbuttoned your blouse and pulled down your skirt, throwing the articles of clothing behind you in a rushed hurl. Trailing your fingers down his boxers with your engagement ring flashing in front of the camera, you settled on his waistband. 

“Now, Spence. You’re going to fuck me in front of her.” 

His breath hitched as the unholy words left your smirking mouth. 

“And you-” You turned to face Maeve, who’s hand engulfed her mouth in panic. “You are going to watch it all.“

“No! You’re insane-“

“Or I’ll tell everyone at your work that you’re a home wrecking whore.” You dropped the threat like a hammer and it instantly silenced her.

“That’s what I thought.” 

A twisted grin consumed your face as you looked back at Spencer, who licked his lips at the sight before him- his wife eagerly spread open on the couch, waiting to be filled up. You weren’t sure whether it was an anxious tick or a sign of arousal and frankly, you didn’t care. 

���Show me how sorry you are.” You breathed heavily as you hooked your black lace panties and pulled them to the side.

Needing no further initiative, Spencer lowered his boxers and let his heavy cock spring free from its confines. Despite sex being the last thing on his mind, he couldn’t help the natural reaction his body had to you- it didn’t matter how many times he’d seen it in the last 5 years of your marriage, the sight of you split open for him was always enough to bring him crumbling to his knees. 

Shuffling closer, he let a long string of spit dribble down to your pussy before smearing it around with his painfully swollen tip. He was in a state of delirium and shock as his body moved as though it weren't his own- whatever the consequences, he knew he couldn't lose you.

“You see that, Maeve?” You cocked your head to the side. “That’s all mine.” 

You moaned shakily as he pushed himself in, coating his shaft in your wetness. 

“Isn’t that right, baby? Tell her.” You ordered your husband as he grabbed the back of your thigh, pushing against it to go even deeper. 

“That’s right.” He groaned as he plunged his cock in as deep as it could go, his skin flush against yours. 

“Who do you belong to?” You gazed up at him, running your fingers through his messy curls. 

“You, baby. I belong to you.” He whispers before turning to face the camera. “I belong to her. She owns me.” 

Maeve let out a short huff of disbelief, wanting to look away but struggling. 

“Harder.” You choked out a whisper as your body trembled under his touch, longing for more, aching to possess and to be possessed. 

His thrusts sped up in response, his hips smacking against yours fervently as you clawed at his back like a wounded animal. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whined as he took you by the face with both hands, forcing you to look clearly at him. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Keep going.” You whispered frantically- the feeling of being perfectly stuffed paired with your volatile emotional state left you teetering on the edge of collapse. 

“She means nothing to me.” He grunted between thrusts and you bore a wide toothy grin at the capriciously sweet words. Real or not, you knew they had to hurt her- and that brought you a sadistic amount of pleasure. 

“What were you thinking going for her?” You tutted as he pounded into you like it was the last time, creamy arousal glistening in the dimly lit lounge. “I’m so much better than her. She’s so ugly. Isn’t she, Spence?” 

“Y-yes.” He whimpered. “She’s nowhere near as beautiful as you.” 

Satisfied enough with his taunting, you pushed him back with a bitter hand against his chest and climbed onto his lap with increasing desperation. 

“Bet you wish you could ride him like this, don’t you?” You sneered as you stroked his wet cock with a couple squelchy pumps. “But you never will. This dick is all mine.” 

You lowered yourself onto him, adjusting to his size with breathy moans as he threw his head back in deluge. Bouncing on it with more force than usual, you looked back to observe Maeve’s horrified face glowing on the screen. 

“You got that, bitch?” You jeered mockingly as you reached for his phone and flipped the camera to show Spencer’s exasperated face. “My husband, my dick.” 

With your final act of aggression, you hung up the call and threw the phone behind you. You were fairly confident she wouldn’t be inserting herself into your marriage again any time soon. 

“What the hell-” Spencer’s croaky voice rang out in intervals as you continued riding him with stomach-churning speed. “was that?”

“I was reminding you who you’re married to.” You halted for a moment to catch your breath. “You seem to have forgotten.”

His firm, calloused hands snaked their way around your hips as he dug his fingernails into your flesh, bringing you closer to him. 

“I'll never make that mistake again.” He declared solemnly, brushing the pad of his thumb against your cheek. “Do you forgive me, my love?”

Your limbs went numb and you felt paralysed at the thought. How could you ever forgive such an abuse of trust? 

Spencer firmly grabbed you by the jaw before trailing his hand to the nape of your neck. You wanted to wriggle out of his grasp but he guided your head to rest over his shoulder as he settled his touch on the small of your back. 

“I don’t know…” You slumped into him, feeling immobilised as you murmured mindlessly. 

He suddenly grabbed your ass and roughly spread it apart to allow easier access to your core- he thrust up into your weeping pussy with a force that had you huffing out wordless squeaks. He set a ruthless tempo, hammering into you as your gushing arousal dripped down his thighs. 

“If I’m going to let that little stunt you just pulled slide-“ He growled with a renewed ferocity. “then you’re going to suck it up and forgive me too.” 

Whining, you smacked the side of his bicep in protest but the way he was fucking your brains out left you unable to speak. 

“I don’t wanna hear it baby.” He kissed your temple sloppily as he patted your hair, smoothing it down while he massaged your insides. “You’re meant for me and I’m meant for you. We’re perfectly fucked up for each other.”

“Mmph-“ You moaned into his shoulder, drool dribbling down his skin as you bit into it. 

“I’m never letting you go.” He sped up as his force and aggression grew, leaving bruises in the shape of fingertips littered along your hips and ass. 

With one final thrust, you came undone - squeezing his cock so tight in the process that he couldn’t help but fill you up to the brim with his cum. You panted as you tried to catch your breath, creamy wetness pouring out of you as he pulled your sweaty bodies apart. 

“Okay.” You sighed. “I forgive you.” 

Spencer abruptly sat up as the precious words spilled from your swollen lips. “You mean it?” He trembled hopefully, melting expression tugging at your heartstrings. 

“Only if you swear to me it’ll never happen again.” You wagged your finger at him as he leapt onto you unexpectedly.

“Never! Never, baby, I swear.” He planted grateful kisses up and down your body as you indulged in a reluctant smile. “It’s only you. You are the only one for me. Now and for the rest of my life.” 

You could tell by his adoring gaze that he meant every word. Wrapping your arms around him, you settled into a healing embrace. He was allowed to make one mistake, you loved him enough to let it slide. And if resentment ever crept up on you, you could always fondly recall that drunken night with Agent Morgan. Who said married couples weren’t allowed a few secrets?

[agaypanic]

hi omg i got so excited when i saw you were doing egon spengler x reader aaaa! could you do egon and an personality opposite reader? he's all serious and deadpan while she's happy and upbeat (it'd be cool if she was the new girl in the team and had a crush on him). sort of like a "she fell first, he fell harder" situation?

The Sunlight On My Spores (Egon Spengler X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: The new addition to the ghostbuster’s team is a ray of sunshine, and she has her sights on a scientist with an interest in fungi and the supernatural.

A/N: AHHHHH ive been waiting for an egon/ghostbuster request!!! since i havent written for egon before, i hope i get his character right lol also idk shit about science/paranormal jargon. and idk if eegs is spelled the way it should but it’s pronounced ee-gs, like egon but s instead of on

***

Joining the Ghostbusters definitely brought amusement and hecticness to your daily life. Although you handled more of the office work, you had seen your fair share of the paranormal action. Namely Slimer, who would get ahold of your lunch every now and then.

Ray was the first on the team that you had met, being the one to interview you. You liked to call him ‘Sun-Ray’ for his bright and positive personality.

You were pretty much hired on the spot, mainly because Janine had been complaining about the lack of extra help. But as long as you had a steady paycheck, you didn’t mind. Ray had immediately showed you around the firehouse. You met Peter and Winston on the main floor, the former being flirtatious and the latter being more polite in his welcoming. 

Then Ray took you up to the second floor, where the dining area, sleeping quarters, and lab were.

That’s where you met Egon Spengler. His tall frame was hunched over one of the lab’s many workbenches, doing some soldering work on a proton pack.

“Spengs!” Ray said with a wide grin, bringing you over to the scientist. The man in question set down the soldering iron and straightened up, adjusting his glasses as he turned around.

“What is it, Ray?” He asked in a somewhat monotone voice. He glanced at you, furrowing his brows slightly before looking back at his friend. “Who’s this?”

“This is Y/n, our new recruit!” Ray replied enthusiastically, patting you on the shoulder. 

“Ah, so you’ve filled the new receptionist position.” He said, giving you a once-over. “Janine will be happy to hear that.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Spengler.” You greeted with a smile. He outreached his hand, which you grasped firmly and gave a few shakes. His hand was slightly calloused, probably from his work, but still felt nice.

“Egon’s fine.”

“I’ve read a few of your papers on paranormal studies; I think the whole thing’s fascinating.” 

Some of his research papers weren’t the only thing of Egon’s you’ve seen. Ever since the Ghostbusters had gained some popularity, you couldn’t help but find him quite cute, spending an extra few seconds looking at him whenever a picture of the group was in your newspaper or on your television screen. 

And he was definitely even more handsome in person.

“Well then, you’ve definitely come to the right place.” Ray grinned, but your focus was still on the spectacled man before you.

“Thank you, that’s very flattering.” Although his voice was a bit monotonous, the response was genuine. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to check on my spore samples.”

“Spore samples?” You asked with curiosity.

“Yes. I collect spores, molds, and fungus.” 

“That sounds like fun!” Egon was a bit taken aback by your response. That wasn’t a reply he was used to hearing. And the fact that you sounded genuine and peppy was even more confusing to him. 

Ray, wanting to show you the rest of the firehouse, started to pull you away. You gave a quick goodbye to Egon before bounding down the stairs after Ray. Meanwhile, Egon needed to take a second to get his befuddled thoughts straight before he could tend to his samples.

***

You fell into a routine pretty quickly. The job was mainly making appointments and ensuring the boys were ready for a call, scheduled or unexpected. Occasionally, you filed paperwork or got coffee for everyone at odd hours in the day. But because the job was shared between you and Janine, you often had at least a little bit of free time.

“Got another one!” Peter announced as he stepped out of the Ecto-1 that had just rolled into the firehouse, holding up a slightly smoking trap. As Winston and Ray emerged from the car, you wondered if Peter had been wearing a poncho because he was the only one not covered at least halfway in goo. “He was a real slimy one, too.”

“I can tell.” You laughed as Ray and Winston peeled out of their uniforms with a grimace. 

“You’re back.” Egon’s voice almost made you jump; you hadn’t realized he had come down from the lab. He walked until he was standing next to you, holding his hand out towards the ghost trap. “I’ll take that, Peter. Ray, come with me, I want to discuss the containment facility with you.”

“What about it?” Ray asked as he closed his locker. Egon brushed past you to walk down to the basement, Ray close behind.

Not wanting to be caught staring at Egon’s leaving form, you whipped back around to the car. It seemed that Winston and Ray weren’t the only ones who got slimed. Poor Ecto.

“I think I’m gonna clean the car.” You thought aloud. “You guys don’t have any more calls until tomorrow.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Y/n,” Winston said. 

“Well, someone’s gotta do it,” Peter interjected. “We gotta ride in style, after all.”

“Really, Winston, I don’t mind.” You insisted. “I don’t have anything else to do.”

“Suit yourself.” He said with a shrug.

Patting you on the shoulder, Winston went upstairs to take a shower. While Peter hung up his jumpsuit, you looked around in a storage closet for car washing supplies.

“Y/n?” You looked towards the sound of the voice, seeing Egon peeking out of the basement entrance.

“Yeah, Eegs?”

“You, uh-” He cleared his throat, cheeks going slightly pink, and you wondered why. “You can wear my jumpsuit, if you want. So your clothes don’t get dirty.”

You grinned, straightening up from your slightly bent position. Peter raised a brow at Egon, although you couldn’t see that because you were also looking at the tall man.

“Thanks, Egon!”

He nodded once before going back downstairs, Peter hot on his tail. 

“You sweet on her or something, Spengs?” He asked quietly, not wanting to gain your attention.

“Shut up, Venkman.”

***

Music blasted as you washed the soap suds of the Ecto-1. You were pretty sure everyone was out of the building, either getting lunch or just not wanting to be in the firehouse. You had taken Egon up on his offer, his jumpsuit fitting very baggy on you. You had to roll up the sleeves and pantlegs, but you didn’t mind. Especially when seeing the patch with his last name on your chest.

Over the music and your own voice singing along to Whitney Houston, you didn’t hear Egon walking down the stairs. When he reached the bottom step, he watched as you jumped around to the beat. 

“I need a man who’ll take the chance, on a love that burns hot enough to last.” You sprayed the last of the soap off the front of the car before turning the hose off. “So when the night falls, my lonely heart calls. Ohh- Oh!” You yelped in surprise as you turned around, seeing Egon, who was still looking at you. His eyes trailed up and down your form, but it was so quick that you didn’t notice. “Hey, Eegs! I thought you’d gone out with the others.” Even after turning down the radio to hear his response, you still danced a bit. Although, your movements were a bit more subdued.

“I was up in the lab, checking on my fungi.” 

“Oh! Was the music distracting you?” You asked, already sounding apologetic. “I can keep it down if you-”

“No!” Egon answered quickly, taking the both of you by surprise. He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. “No, the music’s fine. I wanted a snack and found that we were out of Twinkies, so I was going to get some.” 

You nodded in understanding, moving to put away the car cleaning supplies that you were no longer using. And then you noticed that Egon hadn’t made any move to leave. You looked over your shoulder, seeing that he was standing in the same spot with eyes darting around the room, and turned back around to face him. You tilted your head with a questioning look.

“Would you, ahem, would you like to come with me?” He seemed a bit shy to ask, and it made you smile brightly. “Wouldn’t want to leave you here all alone and all.”

“Sure!” You answered enthusiastically. “Lemme just put all this away.” 

Without asking, Egon helped you gather everything and put it in the storage closet. You unrolled the limbs of Egon’s uniform, and he couldn’t help but admire you in his attire, despite how much the fabric consumed you. It was hung back up in his locker with care before you grabbed your purse from your desk and skipped over to him.

“Ready?” You nodded, and the two of you walked out of the firehouse. Without thinking, you looped your arm through his. But before you could pull away and apologize for not asking, he was already pulling you along the sidewalk, the tiniest hint of a smile on his serious face.

[bucknastysbabe]

hello hello lovely

saw that your requests were still open, and I’m craving Aegon. need your precious writing to revamp my love for him 💓

could I request chubby!Aegon where the reader becomes jealous and he makes it up to her? don’t have anything specific in mind just along those lines. I need that big boy to grovel 🫠

thank you, appreciate you 💋

- @lovelykhaleesiii xo

Anything for you my helina🥰🥰loved writing this

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW: mention of overeating, mentioned weight gain, chubby!aegon, au!no war, northern reader, pwp, Aegon being aegon, breeding kink, pnv!sex, certified boob man aeg ii, lactation kink mentioned, creampie

Taglist: @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @lovelykhaleesiii @dr-aegon @starogeorgina @jamespotterismydaddy @elaratyrell @zaldritzosrose @sugarpoppss2 @saintaegon @fairysluna @targaryen-madness

Aegon could put on a farce with the best of the mummers. He was all smiles and drunken japes at dinner. Talking, eating, talking, eating, and his favorite— drinking. Your husband’s abilities appeared to grow along with his new titles. He was a king now and certainly filled the part.

You sat next to him with a pinched face, carefully sipping your wine. Aemond looked on with barely concealed disgust, sharp features twitching. He raised a brow at you, jerking his sharp chin toward your husband. Aemond’s need for control might be worse than your own. The king was the king, there was not much you could do outside the bedroom. Aegon was chatting with Lord Jason Lannister. You despised the Westerman and what he represented, the Northron blood in you appalled at the South’s materialism.

Jason snorted, “Well, you’ve heard of the petulant princess down in Dorne hm? Fashions herself the new Nymeria. Heard she’s quite beautiful.”

Aegon replied around a gulp of wine, “Is it them or the Iron Islanders that take on all those wives? She can join my harem. I do know the Dornish are easy, much easier than mine own wife.” He leaned forward on thick arms to jest, “Pray tell, what’s this Martell’s name? Mayhaps I’ll send a letter.”

The pair guffawed. You quietly put your cup down and excused yourself. Aegon called after you between his giggles, “My love! Come on! Take a damn joke, yeah?”

You seethed, blood icy at his embarrassing behavior. He knew better than to insult you, his queen, the one he came crying to when times got hard. Your kingsguard filtered in behind you, scrambling to catch up. Ser Darklyn’s questions were ignored.

Safe in your chambers, you pulled down the kady bar. Rage unfurled beneath your skin— you would not show it to him. You never did unless it was a slap to his full cheeks. A tear fell, the droplet smacked away like a pest. You’d go to sleep, Aegon could wait until you’d calmed.

“Fucker. Southron cock-gargler.”

As expected, his familiar presence came to crawling. Well, flopping onto your bed with his weight, the ropes creaking as he cursed lowly. Aegon cursed, “Fuckin’ damn- beds!” You jerked up your legs, sitting upright to light a candle, blinking the little sleep out of your eyes.

The blonde frowned at the dim light, chubby cheeks pooching at the movement. He wore a simple linen shirt and breeches, white hair all mussed. You frowned at your thoughts turning soft, as your lord husband looked handsome in the gentle lighting.

Aegon murmured, thick fingers circling your ankle, “Are you upset? I was merely joking.”

“No, go on, take a mistress from every great house if you so desire, my king.”

His violet eyes rolled at your acrid reply, the man coming closer to your position. He sighed, “I don’t plan on it, why would I do that?” Narrowing your eyes, you threw a pillow at his head to escape further across the bed. Aegon grunted as he was pelted, the blonde casted a bewildered look your way, brows pinched.

“I don’t want to hear it, that was shameful to speak as if I were not there, go away Aegon,” you hissed.

He groaned loudly, hand running through his wild waves. The king asked, face dead serious “Do I need to beg? Hm? My frozen queen of the north is the only one I’m fucking. Sweetling wants to see me grovel?”

Your stomach fluttered at the thought, eyes flicking to his earnest expression across the bed. You sniffed quietly, holding out a hand, “Yes. I want you to beg for me. Then maybe I’ll forget the slight. You talk like such a whore at the table yet you forget who rules your cock.”

He moaned, eyes rolling at the words before taking your hand and lowering himself with a grunt. Aegon looked up through his lashes, plump lips pink and perfect. He murmured, “Can’t believe you. Lady wants me to grovel. All I do is think about my wife day and night.”

You stared him down, pleased so far.

“I’m not seeing anyone, nor do I care to. I’m not some young little slip anymore. Too busy eating your cunt than diving into every hole up the street of silk, yeah? Maybe that’s why I can’t close my belt?”

You moaned, “I didn’t make you, ah, you do that Aegon.”

“Mhm, that’s why you slide me extra cake. Now, what was I saying,” he was kissing an ankle now, carefully holding your leg, “Why would I go get some bratty Dornish nymphet, or any other lady for that matter? I’ve fucked a babe into you twice now. It’s a bit intoxicating watching you ripen up with my seed.”

You whined at that, resolved to break soon. Being pregnant with the children was some of your fondest moments. Some most erotic from your insatiable husband. His increased weight? Likely came from him drinking your tits up every night before each babe.

Aegon hummed, eyes blown with lust, lips at your knee. The king rasped, “I’d like to fuck more into you tonight if you’ll forgive me, I only love my queen. Always and truly ever you, sweeting. Mayhaps twins? Your teats will be quite ripe for me then.”

You gasped and pulled his shoulders, Aegon already knew the intention as he hiked up your shift and yanked it off. In a flurry of movement, you pulled at the strings on his breeches while he exposed his thickened body. He was stout, not necessarily a true softling. It made the king more intimidating, with wide hips and a sturdy midsection. You loved it.

“Uh-huh, you’re gonna fuck twins into me? That’s a way to make up for being an absolute t-twat.”

You tried to hiss but there was no real heat, especially with his soft lips against your neck, gluttonous hands on your tits. Aegon pressed your naked form into the bed, his flushed cock snug against your thigh. Delicate white hair tickled at your neck as you squirmed. The king’s bulk had you utterly pinned, stocky thighs keeping your legs open.

He nipped at thin skin, laughing, “Where’s all the cold anger hm? Needed to be coddled and warmed up? You’re no better than me, love.”

Another shiver ran up your spine, goosebumps erupting atop your skin. You hooked a leg around his cushy waist and gritted, “Kiss me dammit. You were the ass here.” He laughed again, lips searching your own, the familiar plush a balm to your stung pride.

You opened up for him, lips lazily caressing against Aegon’s more insistent kisses, tongue bullying its way in. He gripped at your waist, rutting a few times against your cunt. The bulbous tip catching your clit made you whine and cling to his fleshy sides.

The Targaryen breathed, “Never takes you long to get all nice and slick for me huh? Turn your nose up but your pussy gets wet. Every. Damn. Time.” He punctuated his words with jerks of his hips and grinned as you cursed his name, arching into his soft belly.

You rolled back against him, demanding, “Enough talk, you’re here to make it up. Ah, careful,” you chastised as he pulled one of your tits up to bite at your budded nipple, “Fuck me dammit! Breed me up then!”

Aegon grinned sharply, cooing, “Why didn’t you just say so, dearest? I’ll make sure you take it all.”

He shoved a pillow under your flared hips, pressing gentler kisses on any available skin. Aegon huffed as he jerked his hand under a heavy stomach to grab his cock, guiding it into your soaked cunt. Your knees tightened up around him, exhaling a shaky moan.

He never failed to fill you up perfectly, with a girthy cock that he well knew how to use. Aegon groaned, lashes fluttering as he bottomed out, “Mmm, fuck, always so godsdamn soaked for your king.” One of his big hands clapped down on your ass— you threw your head back as he began to fuck you in earnest.

Aegon was an…excitable lover. He was mouthy and rough, a true passion of his to empty his balls into cunt. Thankfully, it was yours and yours only for the past years. You panted against his soft jaw, nipping at the flesh as he stretched your walls out, tip dragging against the tender ridges and spongey spots.

He angled you further, allowing his lower tummy to rub and stifle your bundle of nerves. You cried out his name, heaving as Aegon paid no heed, single-minded determination across his face. Shivers wracked your spine, shooting down your spread legs.

“Mhm, that’s my baby, shaking all over, needed my cock to settle you down? You say I’m needy. Yet your body screams for more.”

“F-fuck Aegon, quit it, oh gods!”

He took your lips again, sweat building up between you two as passions grew frantic. You keened. “Breed me, love, want more babes, make me yours again and again- hnn- mm!” Blood suffused your face, irritably hot as you registered the wanton pleas.

Aegon doubled down, hands pressing your thighs up, bending your stimulated frame. His belly still sat heavily on your clit, sparks of pleasure muddling any sort of coherence. Aegon was panting now, hair damp with exertion. He growled, “Yeah, yeah, gonna keep you full mama, let the kingdom see how well my queen takes my seed. Gods, gods, fucking hell, gonna fill you up. Plug ya’ so you don’t leak.”

You whimpered as your belly was awash with intense sensation, bundling nerves ready to fire. Aegon’s rambling about you being his perfect queen and good mama throttled you to the precipice, pussy clamping down on his cock. You wanted it all, your cunt was milking him for it. Seeking that hot feeling of his spend coating your sore insides.

“Fucking others!,” came your howl— your delirious thoughts catapulting you into gushing all over Aegon with a squeal. The king stuttered and cursed, a broken moan leaving swollen lips. He surged forward, dragging his tip against your cervix, face cutely scrunching as he emptied, shaking and moaning your name.

His spend was molten hot and overfilling your cunt, Aegon selfishly feeling around the side of the bed, crushing your overwhelmed body. He whined, “Fuuh-uck, love, feel too good, hold on.” You furrowed your brows before surprise hit your features.

That motherfucker was going to plug you up.

His lidded eyes danced as he drawled, “I wanted twins, mama.”

You squirmed and mewled when his cock left and a cold wedge replaced it. He shushed and pet you, kissing you tenderly as you grew used to the foreign object. You could feel his seed stuffed inside— trying not to dwell on it so hard. Aegon flopped onto his back, pulling your body snugly against his soft, warm one. You murmured, “That was some hell of an apology. Bastard.”

He sleepily murmured, “M’sorry dove, was mean. I’ll do better,” he squeezed you tight and planted a kiss on the crown of your head, “Only for my queen. Mmh, pray to your old gods— papa wants twins.”

You snorted, biting back laughter at his outright silly statement.

“Mhm Papa, prayers coming up. Sot.”

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 21 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jake works to secure his future with Jessica while also being supportive of her. She is dreading Brian's return to work, but she recognizes that she finally has the friends she deserves.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, language, 18+

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jessica had never been hungover during the week before, but all the celebratory champagne and rough sex had definitely gone to her head a little bit. She groaned when she felt Jake's hand on her shoulder. "Baby, you have to get up," he said, voice hoarse next to her ear. "We have to go to work."

"Oh, god," she groaned, rolling over away from him. "No."

"You have to," he repeated. "It's your first day with tenure, Reedy. You have to go."

A smile spread across her lips in spite of her headache, and she whispered, "Tenure. I have tenure."

"You sure do," Jake drawled softly, and she finally opened her eyes to see him grinning at her. "If you get up now, I'll make you breakfast."

Her stomach growled so loudly they both laughed, and then she pouted playfully. "But I don't have a waffle iron."

He kissed her forehead. "No. But I do. And you told me you weren't going to renew your lease."

"I'm not," she whispered as her heart swelled with happiness. 

"Well, soon enough you'll have daily access to waffles," he whispered, kissing her just below her ear. "I guess I better start cleaning out my closet to make room for your lingerie collection."

Now she wanted to move in with him as soon as possible. She could already picture herself organizing all of her pretty pieces in his nice closet while modeling a few of them for him. She still had some things he'd never seen her in, and it was going to be so much fun to tease him. 

"Get up," he said, patting her butt as he climbed out of bed. "I'll make some eggs."

Jessica went through her morning routine only after taking some Advil, and she had to drink two mugs of coffee before she really felt human. She also left her apartment a good fifteen minutes after than she usually did. "You'll be late," she fretted, running toward her car which was parked next to Jake's truck. "You'll get in trouble."

"Nah," he replied, "Bradshaw will cover for me." He kissed Jessica as she tried to push him toward his truck, stumbling in her high heels.

"Go to work. Goodbye. I love you," she said quickly. "I'll see you tonight!" 

"See you tonight, tenured Dr. Reed," he called out as she climbed into her car and started the engine. 

Jessica barely had time to get to her office before she had to grab her notebooks and head back downstairs to give her first lecture of the day. But it felt so damn good to stand there in front of her students. Dr. Rosenthal wouldn't be stopping in, because he didn't need to. Because she had tenure. And now that her headache was virtually gone and the breakfast that Jake made was sitting nicely in her belly, she kind of felt like screaming about it from the rooftops. 

But she settled for screaming about it at lunchtime when she grabbed the little container of food Jake made and took it over to the math building. After one knock on her friend's office door, it swung open revealing a bright smile. Jessica screeched quietly and hugged her. 

"I have tenure," she whispered.

"Well, obviously," Advanced Calculus replied. "There was never any doubt in my mind."

Jessica set her lunch down on the desk while her friend closed the door. "I can't thank you enough for everything you did for me. Helping me set everything up with Rosenthal and giving up so much of your free time and everything," she gushed. "Just... thank you. And I hope you had a nice time at the library with Bradley."

She snorted in response as she opened her tie dye lunchbox. "Bradley had a great time at the library, as per usual. And once again, I don't think you appreciate how very much I want to see Brian go down like a sinking ship. In fact, I volunteered for another special project."

"What kind of project?" Jessica asked as she watched her friend dip a carrot stick into some hummus. 

"I can't talk about it quite yet. I have another meeting with Dean Walters in an hour, but I think it's a project that you'll fully support." Then she bit into the carrot like a woman who was in complete control of her surroundings, and Jessica couldn't think of a single reason why she couldn't be the same way.

"If you think I'll appreciate your new project, then I can't wait to hear about it later," she said, taking a bite of the delicious food Jake made for her. 

"I'll tell you all about it as soon as I can."

After lunch, Jessica took some time to gather her scattered notes to teach Brian's senior studies class for the last time. She learned as much about chemistry from the students as they had from her, and after she worked a few problems out on the board with them, she asked, "If you have any other questions for me, please let me know now. This is the last time I'll be covering this class."

"What do you mean?" one of the students asked, leaning forward in his seat. 

"Dr. Conley will be back for class next week," she explained, and then she heard an outraged sigh followed by some muttering. "It'll be okay though," she said in a tone she hoped was reassuring. "You've all been doing so well, and you're so close to graduation now!"

"But Dr. Conley doesn't even show up to class."

"He doesn't help us with anything."

"Is there any way you can stay until the end of the semester?"

"What about the practice problems you give us?"

The sudden influx of comments and questions made Jessica feel better and also so much worse at the same time. She let them all get their concerns out of their system before she said, "My office hours are always available for you. And you can still email me if you want to. I can even try to make more practice problems, but honestly, all of you are much better at chemistry than I am. Maybe you can run the class yourselves if Dr. Conley isn't here?"

She hated Brian. She actually still hated him. But more so for these students now than on her own behalf. They all looked concerned and apprehensive, and she spent another ten minutes talking to them until they were calm enough to head to their next class. She wished she could finish teaching them for the rest of the semester, and she decided she would ask Dean Walters if there was any chance she could teach her own senior studies class for physics majors next school year.

-----------------------------

Jake was already home and showered with dinner in the oven, eating some chips on the couch while he waited for Jessica. He was keeping a running tally of things he still needed to give her since he'd already willingly handed over his heart. His spare key was sitting next to his feet which were propped up on the coffee table. He had already cleaned out half of his closet and consolidated his stuff to make some room. And he wanted to pay for the flights to Massachusetts and Texas for her once she approved the dates. 

When his phone lit up with a text letting him know she was here, he ran down to her car in just his sweatpants and slippers with his spare key ring looped around his finger. "Did you have a good day?" he asked, taking her overnight bag from her hand as she locked her car.

"I did," she replied quietly. "I left so late, because I talked to the dean about teaching my own senior studies class next term."

"And?"

She smiled as they walked to his condo. "He said it's a good possibility now that I have tenure."

"There's nothing you can't do." Jake kissed her and pressed the key ring into her hand.

"What's this?" she asked, looking at it as she stood outside the front door. "Oh!" She slipped it into the lock and let them both inside as she blushed. "You want me to have it now? Even though I'm not moving in quite yet?"

"Please," he replied as he walked inside, his eyes catching on the print of his jet that she gave him for his birthday. "You can come and go as you want, but I hope you'll be here more often than not."

Jake watched as she took her keys out again and added his ring to them. "Thank you." She was fiddling with them a little bit when she looked up at him as she stepped out of her high heels. "Brian will be back tomorrow," she said softly. "That's what Dr. Rosenthal told me when I ran into him. And if he doesn't know I have tenure by now, he'll find out soon enough."

Jake collected her in his arms. "He can't do anything about it now, Reedy. It's a done deal. And unless you fuck up spectacularly at work, which you definitely won't, he's not entitled to say anything about it."

She nodded against him. "I know that. I do know that, but I still don't want to have to see him and hear his stupid, condescending voice complain about me."

He pressed his nose to her hair and kissed her before he whispered, "You wear your tenure like a shield. And if he can't figure out how to shut his mouth, you let me know, and I'll be there in an instant."

Jessica shivered in his arms. "That shouldn't sound as sexy as it does. You know..." she mused, "none of this would have happened if you hadn't punched Brian in the face the first time. So I guess I really have you to thank."

"How so?" Jake asked as he led her to the kitchen where the oven timer was going off. 

"You punched Brian, and then his wife saw his messed up face. And then she came to campus looking for answers and found him with the teaching assistant. And then he took a leave of absence." When Jake set down the baking dish and glanced over his shoulder, she was smiling brightly. "Jake, you literally saved my career with your fist!"

He shrugged and shook off his oven mitts. "All I did was punch someone who was trying to intimidate my girlfriend. I'll do it again if I have to. Now, would you like some parmesan cheese sprinkled on top of your dinner?" he asked as he cut into the casserole. He ended up with Jessica in his arms. 

----------------------------

Jessica heard the whispers all day on Thursday. If Dr. Rosenthal hadn't told her that Brian was coming back, she would have chalked it up to everyone at the university being addicted to their daily gossip, but she half expected to see him lurking around every corner. She kind of wanted to go right to Brian's office, knock on the door and tell him that she got tenure just to get it over with. But when she thought about seeing his face, she shook her head in disgust. 

She hadn't heard much from Jake all day, and Advanced Calculus was scarce as well. But when she went to the lounge to make a sad cup of coffee before her office hours started, the teaching assistant that Brian had been sleeping with was in there along with another one that Jessica wasn't familiar with. They must not have seen her at first as they were clearly talking about Brian.

"He looks terrible, honestly. Like he hasn't slept. I'm sure he's going to ask me if I want to mess around again, especially since his wife left."

"I don't know. I heard he's actually pretty upset that she took the kids. But I really want to know who broke his nose in the first place."

Jessica considered sneaking back out of the room, but it was too late. They had seen her, and they both snapped their mouths closed. Had Sabrina Conley really taken their kids? Was she gone for good? Jessica thought she'd probably be better off without her husband. She also wanted to ask the TA if she knew Brian was married when they were messing around before, but it was really none of her business. 

"Hi," she greeted evenly, strolling toward the coffee maker. The only sound in the small room was her high heels tapping against the floor as she walked. But neither of them said a word in response before they turned and left. Maybe they were embarrassed about being caught talking about Brian, or maybe Jessica still had a bad reputation in the science department. Either way, she was going to take her coffee upstairs and wait for Luca to stop by before spending the night cuddled up with Jake. 

When she finished stirring her drink and turned toward the door, she almost spilled her coffee all over herself. "Brian," she gasped, taking an awkward step backwards so her hip hit the edge of the counter a bit painfully. He looked so angry, she immediately felt like her heart was going to explode out of her chest as her nerves took over. 

"Call me Dr. Conley," he snapped, and she could feel her face flushing with embarrassment as she stood there silently. 

Jessica's hands shook as she tried to walk to the door, but he didn't budge from his spot blocking her exit path. "Excuse me," she said, trying her best to sound stronger than she felt. 

"I don't even want to know how badly your lesson plans have gone off course over the past few weeks," he practically growled. "You're going to need to schedule a meeting with me to go over everything. The sooner the better."

"No."

Brian looked surprised by her response. "Yes," he replied with a sarcastic laugh. "I know you think you really did something special by getting that asshole to punch me in the face, but your days here are fucking numbered. Understand?"

"No," Jessica repeated as Jake's voice in her mind kept telling her to wear her tenure like a shield. Plus, she could clearly picture the paperwork she signed with Dr. Rosenthal since she read over it a dozen times. "I don't have to answer to you about my curriculum choices any longer."

He laughed. "Okay, so now you're unreliable, slutty, and stupid?"

"I have tenure," she said firmly, gripping the coffee a little tighter while his eyes bugged out in anger. 

He shook his head. "You can't get tenure unless you get it through me," he snarled.

Jessica looked at his crooked nose and miserable expression, and if she wasn't on the verge of tears, she might have laughed. "You can ask Dean Walters for a copy of my signed paperwork. And if you have concerns about my curriculum, then you can take it up with him." She tried to duck past him through the doorway, certain her resolve was almost gone now. 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Brian demanded loudly, and she jumped back. "Explain yourself right fucking now."

"Dr. Conley!" came a familiar voice from the hallway, and then Dr. Rosenthal was poking his head in the lounge door. "You shouldn't be raising your voice like that to Dr. Reed, especially since you're on probation."

"Probation?" Jessica whispered, and Brian's face soured further.

"Mind your own business, Rosenthal," he snapped, and under his breath he added, "you should have retired a decade ago."

"Yes. Probation," came another familiar voice as Advanced Calculus strolled in with a notebook in her hand like she hadn't a care in the world. She stopped right in front of Brian with her back to Jessica, acting almost like a buffer. "He's in a lot of trouble," she said in a voice that bordered on teasing, and Brian's face grew pink.

"What do you mean?" Jessica whispered, and the other woman smirked at her over her shoulder.

"He's on probation for a history of behavioral issues, and I volunteered to be his probation officer of sorts," she replied before turning back toward Brian. "Don't forget, Dean Walters asked to check in with me on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And I'll be dropping by your classes to make sure you actually show up to them. Oh, and I'll have to add to my report that you raised your voice to a professor with tenure while she was just trying to make a cup of coffee." She tapped her notebook. "It's not looking good, Brian."

Jessica watched Dr. Rosenthal shuffle away after he cleared his throat, and Brian spun on his heel to follow suit. "Is this for real?" Jessica asked, looking around the room to try and tell if she was in a dream.

"Yep. He's my new volunteer project. I think Dean Walters could just tell that I have a lot of experience taming fuckboys. But Brian takes the cake, let me tell you. He's been skipping out on his classes to meet up with different women."

Jessica adjusted her glasses and looked at the floor as she whispered, "I never missed my classes when he and I were...."

"Of course not," she said blandly. "That's why you were given tenure instead of being put on probation. You actually do your job. He doesn't. Now, I was thinking about Chippy's tomorrow night? Kind of a celebration?"

Jessica just blinked at her. "A celebration for what?"

"You! A tenure party! Fratraiser part deux as Bradley has been calling it. You know what, I'll take care of the whole thing. Don't even stress about it."

Jessica had been planning on spending the weekend cleaning out her apartment before she started to move a few things to Jake's place. But going out for a bit could be fun. She had more friends in San Diego now than she ever dreamed she would. "What were you thinking? Like a double date?"

"Something like that," she replied with a twinkle in her eye. "How about tomorrow night at eight?"

"Let me check with Jake," she said right away.

"Oh, Jake already knows."

--------------------------------

"We'll just stay for a little bit and then head home again," Jessica whispered as she and Jake made their way slowly from his truck to Chippy's. He was fucking obsessed with the way she just called his condo home. He was obsessed with everything about her as he pressed her up against the side of Chippy's out on the sidewalk. She'd let him dress her for the night by turning it into a game, and he had chosen a black lace bodysuit paired with a mini skirt and denim jacket.

"I made a mistake," he whispered, voice rough with need as he let his hand slip underneath the skirt. Then he moaned, "A huge mistake."

She laughed as he bumped her glasses with his nose while he kissed her ear. "Did you?"

Jake was uncomfortably hard in his jeans. "Baby, I really want to fuck you. And your outfit is not helping," he added as he squeezed her bare thigh.

"That's your fault," she whispered with a grin while he whined. "Seriously, we'll just stay for a drink or two. It'll be like a double date. And then we can do whatever you want, okay?"

Jake took her hand in his, kissed her fingers and said, "On the way home, you're ordering those toys from that dirty website you found. I think we need all of them."

He could tell she was blushing in the darkness by the warmth of her cheeks against his lips. "Okay," she agreed softly, and Jake had to adjust himself in his jeans before they could walk inside. 

"Holy shit," he gasped when a crowd of people cheered Congratulations! to his girlfriend. Bradshaw's wife didn't mention there would be this many people in attendance. He saw Bradshaw with his backwards hat and hideous tie dye shirt with his arms wrapped around his wife, but all of the other aviators were there, too. Jake spotted a much older man in a sweater vest sipping a beer, and he assumed that must have been Rosenthal. And of course someone had invited Dev.

"You okay?" Jake asked Jessica as she just stood next to him with happy tears in her eyes. She nodded and sniffed as she read the banner that was hanging above Chippy behind the bar. 

CONGRATS, REEDY!

"Yeah, I'm okay," she whispered, burying herself against Jake as he wrapped his arm around her. "I'm just surprised so many people cared enough to be here."

"Don't cry, Jess!" Bradley shouted over the music and conversation as his wife headed over. "It's a happy occasion! It's not like you're in a relationship with Jake or something horrible. Oh... wait...."

Jake shot him a nasty look while he laughed hysterically, and he watched Jessica hug everyone in attendance, thanking all of them individually for coming to her party. Jake briefly wrapped his arms around her and kissed her as he asked, "You want a Sam Adams, Baby?"

"Yes," she replied, but then she added, "but I want to thank Chippy, too." And with that, Jessica walked right behind the bar and gave the grouchy bar owner a hug, and Jake saw a rare smile break out on his face. "Thank you for always welcoming me here," she told him softly while Jake leaned on the bar. "I felt safe here when I didn't really feel safe anywhere else."

Chippy patted her on the head and then started to push her away as he got a little emotional himself. "You're always welcome here, Reedy," he told her before he started to reach for some bowls to fill them with peanuts, and Jessica walked back around the bar and into Jake's arms. Chippy poured a few beers, and set them down in front of Jake as he growled, "So I guess you're sticking around then?"

"Looks that way," Jake replied, leaning down to kiss Jessica's cheek. "Until this one comes to her senses."

"I told you I wouldn't," she replied with a laugh. Then she turned to Chippy and said, "He's not so bad. And he's sweet to me."

"Then I guess he can stay," Chippy replied with a shrug, still glaring slightly. 

Jake picked up two beers and led the way to a table near the others while Jessica carried the peanuts. "I think he finally tolerates me," Jake boasted. 

"It only took you several months," she replied with a smirk. "Chippy didn't fall for your charms as quickly as I did."

Jake set the beers down next to the peanuts and pulled Jessica closer to him. "You made me work hard for it. Ever since the first night I met you when you brought me here for a three dollar beer."

She reached up and raked her fingers through his hair. "I had to know for sure. That you really wanted me."

Jake kissed her rough on the lips right in front of everyone. "I need you, Jessica," he promised, making her smile. "I love you."

"Okay, that's enough of that," Bradshaw's wife said, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. "I just have a few words I want to say." She looked a little emotional as she started. "Jessica, you've become one of my very best friends in just a few short months. I know that your time at San Diego State started off a little rocky for you, and I'm sincerely sorry from the bottom of my heart that I didn't take the time to get to know you last semester when you really needed a friend in your corner. You're one of the kindest and smartest people I have ever met in my life."

Jake held Jessica as she looked like she was about to cry. "I'm the one who should be saying nice things to you!" she replied, swiping at her tears behind her glasses. "You've done so much to help me."

"And you've done so much by taking Jake off our hands for us," Bradley added loudly as everyone started laughing. 

"That's fair," Jake admitted with a grin as he pressed his lips to Jessica's hair.

Then Bradshaw's wife lifted her pint glass in the air, and everyone else did as well. "Congratulations on your tenure, Dr. Reed!"

The bar erupted in loud cheers, and Bradley shook up a bottle of champagne. Jake spent the rest of the night kissing the sticky sweetness from Jessica's face and making sure Dev kept his hands to himself. He made sure his girlfriend always had a Sam Adams in her hand and that her denim jacket was neatly buttoned over that bodysuit that he was dying to get his hands on. 

He didn't mind sharing Jessica with everyone else for the evening, especially since she'd made such a good friend in Bradshaw's wife. But much later, when Jessica turned and looked at him while she intentionally unbuttoned her jacket, he was more than ready to get her alone. 

"Take me home, Jake," she said sweetly, reaching for his hand. "I'm ready to go home."

He kissed her lips and wrapped his arms around her. "Let's get out of here, Smart Girl."

---------------------------

I hope you loved reading this as much as I have loved writing it! There will not be just one, but TWO epilogues! Stay tuned for those and pegging! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

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[solitus17utopia]

" so, darling play your violin, we will manage somehow. "

It is living nature for a creature to evolve and grow, to ascend and reach higher previously unimaginable heights. But, everyone has their limits, of course. That includes even the ones with the candle lights.

pronouns — they/them.

genre — comfort, not much angst.

c.warning — none; not proofread.

✧ Aventurine.

No matter how foolish he may be titled as, he was clever and indefinitely knew what dangers may lurk underneath the waters of a façade. A man with a low self-esteem, and rugged materials of the past in the unseen corners of his home; he was simply human too, after all.

Although it took time and time, a single individual managed to slither their way into his heart, slowly. Like clockwork. They were his lucky charm, his solace, his home and his lover. Unequivocally, he'd love them with all his pieces. Aventurine would hold onto them just as hard as he did to his coins, albeit the cemented façade was hard to tear off with simply a fleshed hand.

Regardless, he had never failed to show his utmost support to them, although he was totally new to it. Whether it be an entire selection of items from their favourite hobby, or sight-seeing. Everything on their wish list was ticked off akin to how a genie would.

But, when he heard them discarding their passion for their pursuit, he simply could not allow it. He could not afford for another bright light diminish in front of his eyes. Aventurine would give everything in his power to support them: money, check-talks, calls, foreign management; he even asked Topaz and Ratio.

"Hey, hey. Don't. You're doing brilliant, shh, you got this, okay? Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, I'm here for you. I got you."

✧ Dr. Veritas Ratio.

The doctor was a man known throughout the cosmos for his vast knowledge of topics, ranging from philosophy to the most complicated aspects of science. Head-strong, and kept to mostly himself; underneath the layers of plaster, remains a man religious to science — and his lover.

Appearances are often deceptive, either purposefully out of defense or simply unintentionally. Ratio is often described as crude, brutally honest or even a tormentor. One that strives to spread knowledge and learn knowledge, simply, is his person however. The ice that he is made of appears six-phased, but one individual manages to have the right words to always melt him into white ice.

When he caught wind of the fluctuation of your routinely hobby, he was swift to attempt to put them back on their heart's desired track. One that was far better for their future. Albeit it contained a fair number of statistical and technical comparison, he ensured they would be well mentally and physically by soon. He was a doctor, after all; even if not apt in psychology as much as other topics. "...I beg your pardon? No, of course not. Why give up; keep pursuing, you have such talent that should not go to any waste at all. I did not learn all those subjects in simply one day or week. Yes, you are brilliant, do not succumb to such negativity. You are capable, understand."

✧ Arlecchino.

The Head of the House of the Hearth, called "Father", rules with an iron fist. One that is chilly on the outside, yet an ember burns deep in her heart, one that cannot be tamed— at least, entirely.

Arlecchino tends to have a soft spot for children that are orphaned and lost in the world, caring for them by taking them under her care. Although it may be deemed as most of a front, the almost elegant demeanour that she puts up, there is only one that evaded the most that escaped her clutches of cruelty.

That one individual, the one seen sharing tea over with her, and the one so often kept tabs on would be her secret lover. She couldn't have anyone placing their hands on them, could they? Definitely not.

But, when the dark comes and looms over their mentality, she would not even allow a metaphorical or delusional voice of mocking overtake them. Rest assured, Arlecchino will ease their worries. Regardless of how crazed the Harbinger is said to be, she puts aside her heavy heart to let them know.

"Do not let it get to you. You are capable of great things, and I am willing to help however needed. Hmm? Of course, I do appreciate your craft, no matter how eccentric or simple."

© solitus17utopia ✦ do not repost, copy, edit. thank you.

— alex's comments on this matter : been feeling really down for a long, long time; hence, i haven't really been uploading, my bad. i hope this manages to bring comfort to some, at least. thank you for everyone's support. ^^

[hxltic]

Hello! I have a request!

Could you do something where Kenma isn't really giving the female reader any attention because he's busy streaming so the reader sneaks under his desk where the viewer's can't see her and she pleasures him until he eventually cums down her throat?

:) I un-ironically love writing bjs

The shared house was silent anytime after 5 o’clock. Kuroo had just left— his afternoon business management classes calling him in, and Bokuto’s practice overcrowded his schedule to the point where he went twice a day with some gym sessions in between. That leaves you alone with Kenma in your 4 bedroom home off campus that was supposedly his father’s apology gift.

The bills are mainly kept satisfied with Kenma’s profit as his streaming allows you all to live as you do. Of course, there was a sense of independency by your own jobs regardless. There has probably been twice where everyone was in the living room at once, but it’s like there’s a tacit agreement each of you have your own goals.

You can’t be mad at the man for being busy when his job supports his friends and himself.

Kenma has been your friend, now boyfriend, for the longest out of all of them, next in line being Kuroo. Kenma took computer engineering and coding related classes, despite having already perfected building PC’s just out of pure experience. The work is hard. You’ve seen it.

You’ve witnessed him stress first hand about a single error in a strenuous, long line of codes—and you ask him why he doesn’t stop doing it if it bothers him to the extent it does. His determination has grown for activities he enjoys over the years; 12 year old him would have quit.

Kenma’s way to deal with stress is isolation. The entire day he’s been crammed in his room, and with being the only other person in the house majority of the time, you bring it upon yourself to feed him. He gets focused and forgets to eat.

The reminder has you clicking your Ipad off from whatever distraction show you had playing. It was so boring most of the days, Netflix couldn’t even fulfill you. You toss the covers off yourself, then bounce downstairs into the kitchen.

It was so quiet that your feet patting against the floor filled the air. To cure the ennui you felt, you’d take the time to have fun with this culinary experience.

By the time there was fluffy white flour messily coating the kitchen and dishes stacked like game cards in the sink, your dish was plated for two. Maybe you’d keep him some company?

Careful not to fall up the stairs, you prod at his door in attempt to knock with one hand. Somehow you turn the knob successfully.

The fan cuts through the air, every click of Kenma’s pen accompanied with a glance to the paper beside him. He won’t even look up at the waitress bearing goods.

“Hi Ken,” you grab his attention but his slim eyes only dart up at the smell of cuisine. “Have you eaten?”

You know the answer. His hair is pulled back into a ponytail, so when he shakes his head the usual strands that follow aren’t there. You place the plate on his desk, next to the two cans of some energy drink and a diet Dr. Pepper.

“Thank you,” he speaks softly. There was a hint of edge to the sound, like he hadn’t used his voice all day.

“Mhmm.”

You turn on your heels to his bed, then sit criss cross as it squeaks and dips. “Do you mind if I just stay in here? It gets lonely in the house.”

To be honest, you forget he’s there sometimes.

“I’m kinda busy,” he replies. He loves you, and your presence, but he just knows he won’t be able to focus. “I’ll be done soon.”

The pout you flaunt deepens, “You’ve been stuck in here for almost a week now! Come out; I miss you Ken.”

He refrains himself from turning to look at you because he knows when he weighs his options, you’ll always come out on top. The chances of you getting picked multiply with your pout.

“Soon, I just need to finish this.”

“Please?”

He doesn’t even have a valid response for that, so he forces the spoon into his mouth. You’re actually a great cook, but since you all eat so much takeout, nobody’s at the dinner table at the same time to enjoy it.

You huff and negotiate to just sit in silence, as long as you’re in his presence. As long as you know he’s there.

This only lasts about fifteen minutes before you’re whining for him again. You completely understand the heavy load of schoolwork, and that it has to get done, but he genuinely has been at it for so long it cannot be healthy.

“I’m done,” he announces coincidentally, his soft fingers coming up to brush a tendril of hair back as he gathers his things on the desk into a neat pile.

Your head perks up like a puppy at attention. He arises from his chair after closing the laptop, pulling his rubber band from the hair connected at his nape as he steps towards you laying on his bed. You giggle in expectancy when he smiles gingerly at you, reaches his arms forward around your feet to plant his hands on the duvet, then crawls up your body. The hair tie wraps around his wrist to join all the other colorful bracelets and bands.

He makes you swoon by just giving you attention.

His hands grew into proportion as he aged, so now they were relatively large. Large enough to connect at your hips as he kisses his way up.

Stomach, chest, then an abundance on your chin and around your face, just for his thumb and index finger to hold your cheeks in position for his softer, slower kiss right on your lips.

You wrap your arms around him like he’d just disintegrate any second. You can feel his body slump, leaving you with most of his weight to carry and his head withdrawing from the kiss to between your breasts. With one hand massaging the round muscle, Kenma was in his element.

Black with barely-there blonde crowds your vision. His soft skin felt warm as you two lay intertwined in the still house, and if you were to fall asleep it would greatly help that Kenma never keeps the big light on. He moans in satisfactory below you.

You lift your hand to rest over his face, the bigger part of your thumb gliding gently over his cheek.

“I love you,” he mutters.

“I love you too Ken.”

After a while of Kenma following your heartbeat and breathing, you would’ve guessed he was asleep. He clarifies he isn’t when he groans lowly.

“I have to get up.”

The words rest tensely in the air, and maybe if you pretend you didn’t hear him, he’ll lay there and forget about it.

He attempts to raise himself from you, politely grabbing your hand and locking your fingers when he comes to a hover above. His pink lips come to the corner of yours as you blink open your eyes.

Truthfully, he wants nothing more than to be with you, here, resting—but he hasn’t streamed in a solid week because of school. You were completely his priority though, so he would make sure to give you equal attention as his stream.

He finds the little willpower to come off you and the bed. He was genuinely hoping you’d stay there and sleep peacefully, that way he’ll come back to join you and it will feel like he never left.

He flips a blanket over your body before he strolls to his setup usually beaming with bright lights. He takes a seat, making sure to turn the brightness down of everything, refraining from playing music, and ultimately deciding not to turn on any light not connected to his PC anyway.

As much as you hate that he’s not cuddled up next to you right now, you love the fact that he’s a steamer overall because he looks so damn hot doing it. Especially the way his muscles on his forearm flex as he quickly types or plays. His hair that’s usually up is down, because he isn’t wearing his mic.

Or like the way every now and then he’ll pop a piece of gum in his mouth and manspread in his gaming chair to shoot a quick message or check his feed. Or like the way he’s so attent, making call-outs, or whenever he gets angry his brows furrow the slightest bit and his face displays whatever he’s actually thinking. You find it hilarious when his eyes roll.

At some point, he hears you come up behind him into view, and his head relaxes into your two hands sliding up his neck to his jaw. You crouch into the screen and the chat immediately multiples. It’s too quick to read them all. Knowing his viewers, Kenma takes the responsibility of closing it with the click of a button, so fast that it seems he never even did it.

“Cracked, 130,” he calls.

You stood there for a moment to watch him play. He and his team beat the level, game, you don’t know, but he releases his focus from the screen and mindlessly cracks his knuckles.

A donation comes in that’s read aloud. Kenma tenses, but you’re excited to hear it.

“jump1nnit donates $70. ‘girl to girl, is it big?’”

Kenma’s head drops back in your hands, eyes closing in annoyance.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles. Where were his mods?

All you were thinking about was how much Kenma was actually earning. 70 dollars in a single donation? How many of these does he get a day? How much more do people pay that’s over 70 when you aren’t here?

You shake these questions away. You knew he was famous. This was not new information; his fans see you sometimes in the background, and they adore you. It’s why your instagram has so many followers and people saying outrageous things in your comments. Ken begs you not to check them.

You find it amusing honestly. God knows what he’s being sent despite his DM’s or what they’re saying in his chats. You know there’s girls all over the world after him, but he doesn’t entertain them, so you don’t either. You trust him completely.

Brought back to reality, you look down at Kenma.

He starts, “Are you-“

To rile up the scene, you nod at the monitor with a mischievous smirk on your face. You bend and kiss his forehead.

“Can I sit right here?” You ask quickly, already pulling up his desk stool because he has no reason to say no. He takes your momentary absence to mute the computer.

“Yeah. yeah, Definitely.”

The blonde’s tone is a little off, but you chalk it up to what just happened. He was just surprised you’d actually respond. He ignores them so he doesn’t get demonetized.

So you sit next to him on your phone playing games, or watching him, or laying on his shoulder. It made it a little difficult for him to play with the last one, but he doesn’t mind. He places a kiss to your forehead, matching earlier actions, and the way you two looked at each other after will definitely reel in some fan edits.

You return to gaming on your phone until you drop it. It tumbles down and under the PC, into the jungle of wires below.

At least with everything included in the setup, that’s what you expect to see, but they’re all neatly accounted for. The seat moves back against the carpet to accommodate for your body, the space you’ve created to retrieve the device. The problem is, you and Kenma occupy this space. You won’t fit.

Kenma heard your phone drop, so he had an idea why you’re down there. He even chuckled a little. Once you pick up the phone, you use his thigh as leverage to turn yourself around, causing him to flinch, and immediately an idea pops into your head.

You could stay down here.

You press the heart of your palm into him once more, the same reaction procreating ideas like a lightbulb.

His voice from above makes another callout.

The lightness of your fingertips glide across his thigh and up to his waist, slipping past the barrier of the thin shirt he’s wearing. Kenma is not ticklish, but his abdomen turns concave to your touch.

By now he has concluded what is happening, or going to happen, and just the thought has him hardening in front of you. Of course it’s something he’s thought about. He hasn’t asked because it feels unnatural—like you would only do it because he suggested it.

His poker face remains stone cold, but the rest gives him away. With every touch you only got closer. You trail your whole hand up the shirt, running this one along the dips of his pale skin, while the other goes back and forth along his thigh. Inwards, then back out. Your phone was long forgotten.

You run the length of your fingers over his center sneakily before meeting both hands in the middle and fiddling with his waistband. He shivers, but continues to play.

He hadn’t been purposely edging himself, and he definitely knows that you would help him whenever he asked, but with all the schoolwork piled on top of him, it never crossed his mind. It was now though, and sensitivity was at its highest.

“No, why would you do that; that’s stupid,” Kenma replies to what you assume is a donation. The technological voice isn’t there anymore for you to hear.

The tips of your nails dive past every ounce of clothing settled at his hips.

He shifts in his seat, whether to allow you to pull the band down just enough or to calm his nerves, you don’t know, but the opportunity was right in front of your face. Literally.

You don’t even do anything but hold his length before you start the up and down motions. It’s enough to turn him on more, having him grow in your hand. You can’t imagine the faces he’s making while his viewers’ minds were already polluted.

“Keep going, push,” he exclaims. Voice still soft, but with some sense of urgency.

He was not speaking to you, but you listen anyway, and do as he says. Maybe you could play a game: see how long it takes before he realizes you’re taking orders.

With this, you stroke him a little faster, then run your fleshy thumb over his tip. It began dripping, a single bud threatening to fall. After swiping it away, you disperse what little you could, then wrap your plush lips around his head.

He wasn’t expecting it right after your slow pace.

“Ugh, fuck- third party.”

The groan he emitted was covered quickly by a call, as if that’s what “frustrated” him.

You pop off as quickly as you came, spread your saliva, and now slide your enclosed hand down his cock steadily. Silky smooth, it took no energy to glide along him. Your unoccupied hand squeezes his thigh through the cotton.

“Down, he’s under and one shot.”

You jerk him off as his breathing barely picks up, occasionally coming down to wet him some more, but you see a significant difference when your hand consistently twists just the tip. You’d swirl your tongue around the reddening, most sensitive part of him before dropping even farther to take his balls in your mouth.

You tug and pull harmlessly.

“Hmm...”

Despite what was going on, the streamer was clever with how he hid it.

He asks, “Hey, what do y’all want to hear?”

The viewers were astonished they were being asked; Kenma has previously told them he likes his music and would play whatever he felt like hearing. He did a stream for song recommendations and half of it was him hating on their music and the other half was his viewers attempting to find songs he would like.

Regardless, he unmuted the sound on his computer and turned on the playlist, only slightly louder than usual.

You took this opportunity to actually wrap your lips around his cock, not having to worry about the sounds. You start on the slower side but it didn’t take long to get comfortable. Whatever you couldn’t fit, you jerked off.

His abdomen showcased whatever his face wouldn’t, stuttering every now and then with his hips correcting their position. You brought the wet hand to his balls once more, and attempted to fit all of him down your throat. There was a deep sigh above you.

You closed your eyes and went again, trying to go deeper. You didn’t gag, but your throat made sounds that was enough implication of what was going on. That’s okay though. Some random band one of his mods recommended was playing.

Once more, you tried to go deeper, actually sputtering this time, but once you got past the uncomfortableness of it all, you could go the same depth over and over. You did, breathing through your nose. He could hear your throat, but chat couldn’t. If they could, they would be saying something.

“Oh shit, oh shit, he’s on me,” he huffs, “I’m gonna twist around to cover.”

You remove yourself, partially to breathe, and take two hands to twist on top of each other in opposite directions. His belly button caves in with some more muscles, pure evidence of his pleasure.

This was the second he knew what you were doing. What game you were playing.

If you wanted to play, he could too.

“Where is she?” he reads chat calmly. “I think she’s downstairs eating.”

Was it calm enough—you’re not sure, because he was fidgeting excessively in the leaning chair.

The double entendre has you giggling silently. With a deep breath, you’re back down on him again. It’s not long until you sputter.

“Do you want me to tell her to come back up?” You hear him spit out quickly.

You do as he says, but not without the price of your fingers doubling speed at his head.

“Yeah, I’ll tell her. Hold on.”

With quickness, he mutes and turns his camera off.

He was sweating and physically overwhelmed. Pushing back on his heels, his chair rolls from under the table with you following, finally in his sight. He could already imagine how you looked.

Red lips. Glowing face. Glossy eyes, smiling and happy. You were ethereal. Your hands are working him, but now with his cock down your throat too? Oh my god.

He held a soft touch at your cheek and caressed your face with his thumb. Picking up speed, you smile.

The other hand of his would do the same, brushing a loose stand of hair behind your ear. Faster.

“Just like that,” he breathes.

“Mhmm?” you deepthroat him.

His head drops back involuntarily. His mouth does the same. The heavy breaths that he was holding from the stream let loose.

One last look at your flushed features and-

He groans heavily, adam’s apple bobbing and cock tightening. Skin usually pale but red with desire, he stills.

You close your eyes. It was so fulfilling with your throat stretched and his hands on either side of your plush face.

Warmth seeps past your tongue and down the cavern. It causes you to choke but Kenma definitely doesn’t mind. His sounds flow into your ears, plus some faint praise as he soon begins to release from his high.

You couldn’t taste anything as you slowly raise yourself from him, leaving his cock glistening with saliva and pink, but the taste just barely started to form once it caught your tongue on the way down. You swallow anyway—it wasn’t bad.

You use the back of your hand to wipe your eyes and breathe freely. You lay your cheek on the driest part of his pants, even though you’ll have to get up. You just aren’t ready to see the red wilts on your knees.

“You are amazing,” Kenma catches his breath. He looks back down with his eyes glossed over and tired, but he still runs his finger over your wet lip. You softly kiss it.

. .

“Are you getting back on?” You climb into his fluffy bed, throwing the covers back.

Kenma shakes his head and follows after you in a fresh new set. He grabs the covers and returns them over you both, pushing his hair back and holding you close.

©️ hxltic

[isagrimorie]

Rewatching a few scenes from Star Trek Voyager's 2 part episode: Workforce. These episodes really did a number on Janeway; this is one of the times I did wish emotional arcs carried over from one episode to the next.

In the seven years in the Delta Quadrant, nothing has stopped Janeway's quest to bring home her crew back to the Alpha Quadrant.

And in the Delta Quadrant, for Captain Kathryn Janeway, the Voyager is home.

Janeway has faced off against the Borg Queen, the Hirogen, the Vidiians, and Species 8472 but no one has done as much damage to Janeway the way Dr Kadan did a number on Kathryn Janeway.

Because Kadan took away Janeway's certainty.

Kathryn Janeway can traverse any gulf, and jump to any fire as long as she has her iron-clad certainty and belief in her mission intact and that was what Kadan took from Kathryn Janeway.

He accidentally pinpointed the one thing she's been able to repress for so long, and that's her loneliness and how bone tired she is of being in Command.

More than any other Captain, Kathryn Janeway needed a sabbatical. She needed to reconnect with herself, and just be Kathryn.

This is the gift and curse Kadan gave to Kathryn Janeway. Because as plain ol' Kathryn Janeway, a factory worker she was happy, free of responsibility and burdens of Command.

She found friends, love, and comfort in Jaffen (a well-casted romantic lead. The actor had charisma and acting chops to make us believe Janeway Captain or just Kathryn would fall for him).

I don't think Janeway even knew how lonely she's become -- no one needed a long vacation from work than Janeway. I hope that she got that vacation Starfleet put her on the Flag Officer track.

Through the whole two-part episode we see them build up this vivacious and happy version of Kathryn, and then by part 2, the story slowly pulls that away from her.

Just as an example, the look on Kathryn's face when Harry addresed her as "Captain".

You can see how Harry addressing Kathryn as "Captain" struck a chord in her but it's also like someone threw cold water at her.

Kathryn immediately tells Harry to call her "Kathryn" instead:

Kathryn tries to still be in denial and tentatively brings up what Chakotay told her: "He said you had proof of who some of us really are."

She's trying to put distance between herself and this reality. She's conflicted-- she doesn't want to be Captain Janeway. There's even a hint of temptation there that she doesn't want to continue on helping her missing friends.

And yet, the moment Voyager and her crew were in trouble some part of herself reacted. And despite what she felt, she proceeded to bring down the shield knowing that doing so would tear her away from the life she's come to love.

This happens fast, once the shield grid is down, Kathryn disappears from Jaffen's side.

And the next time they see each other again, Kathryn Janeway is Captain Kathryn Janeway again with her uniform and Command back. And they might as well be a million miles away despite being in the same room:

Janeway allows herself to embrace Jaffen for one last time, and there's tears in her eyes, her grief is palpable. It's the way she's held herself apart from Jaffen, the way her hand twitches like she wants to reach out and touch him but can't.

Not in the uniform she's wearing, not in the position she's in.

You can see how much her experience in Quarren affected Janeway by the way she enters the Bridge:

In the turbo lift, she's faced away from the Bridge as if she can't bear being there. She has to steel herself.

Normally Janeway occupies the turbo lift like she owns that space. Because she DOES.

It’s so strange seeing Janeway occupy so little space in her own bridge, even when Voyager was hijacked she never looked out of place or so small.

The moment she steps out Harry, eager Ensign Harry, who missed the events in Quarren and how it might have affected her notices Captain Janeway immediately and announces her arrival.

She looks around at the bridge, still uncertain. Still picking up the pieces of the Captain.

Even when she sat on her Command chair,Janeway looked uncomfortable and for the first time, Captain Janeway doesn't look like she's larger than life.

She can't help but confide to Chakotay:

And. There. It. Is.

The biggest moment. Janeway admitted that Quarren felt like home. Even in The 37s, on a planet that's closest to Earth and home Janeway never even considered that home.

In the Delta Quadrant, Voyager is home.

The moment Janeway said this on the rewatch, I was bowled over because this is such a big moment for Janeway. A big thing for her to admit.

Chakotay asks her if Janeway is sorry he showed up and upended her comfortable life in Quarren?

There is a second's beat, but the beat tells all the story that needs to be said. Janeway rallies and lies: "Not for a second."

She's saying the right words but, at that moment, so near Quarren, after just losing Jaffen. Janeway says something she doesn't feel.

Janeway orders Tom to resume the course for home; but after she gives the order, Janeway's face falls.

And it's so damned sad and this, as I said above, is one of the moments I wish they continued this emotional throughline with Janeway.

Kadan did a number on her and I wish we get to see throughout a few episodes Janeway slowly get over the lie and find a measure of happiness.

Instead, season 7 loses its focus on Janeway and bizarrely have an episode with Q Jr and then a lot of focus on the EMH Doctor. It takes several episodes before Janeway gets the focus again, and that's the series finale.

If Voyager were written today, and the writers were allowed, this moment would be the emotional turning point for Janeway. It's the point where Janeway has to find a way home fast otherwise she's heading for a breakdown.

The center will not hold.

It's probably a good thing her future, alternate self decided to save Captain Janeway the heartbreak of a decade more of this life, and losing the people she loves the most.

And it kind of hurts that canonically, we don't know if Janeway was able to take that vacation. And if Janeway was able to get a measure of happiness and love, as I've mentioned after this episode and after Firewall I really don't care who Janeway ends up with anymore as long as Janeway is happy.

/Edited, March 13 2024, 10AM

[mrs-illyrian-baby]

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 1

Rules to Follow | Loki x Reader

The Avengers bring you to the compound after a series of odd events draws their attention. Life seems to be looking up, until your abilities start to show again.

Chapter warnings: 18+ for implied sexual content, false/medical imprisonment

Series Masterlist

The cold, bleak conference room was a welcome balm against the uproar of the last two days. 

You weren't sure how it happened. One minute you were furious, staring down from the balcony of your flat, anger bubbling through your veins. And then you were watching a row of cars burn in the car park below. 

Maybe you would've gotten away with it if the weather was bad. If less people had been around. If it hadn't gone viral on TikTok. If it was the first time you'd done something weird. 

It wasn't unusual for people to have strange powers, not anymore, but there were certain rules to follow. Rules that included not setting cars on fire and frightening passersby. Rules your grandfather had set about staying in the flat and controlling your emotions, taking your medicine and laying low. 

A hand snapped in front of your face.

“Okay kid, spill. What are you?” Tony asked. 

“Uhm, I’m not anything at all?”

“No, come on. Setting shit on fire, what’s that?”

“Monster, alien or wizard?” Sam piped up.

“I swear to god Samuel quit it with that,” a pen flew across the room with surprising accuracy and embedded itself in the wall behind Sam’s head.

You’d seen them on TV, the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Captain America, Black Widow, Hulk, Vision, Scarlet Witch and Iron Man. It’d be cool if you had any idea why you were here.

“Mr Stark. I didn’t even know I was doing it until it was too late. I don't know how it happens, but I promise I’m not a threat. It wasn't deliberate, you have to believe me." Your voice wavered, tears pooling in your tired eyes.

“Tony, let her sleep. She can use the spare room on our floor. We’ll keep an eye on her”

“Thank you Mr Rogers” you choked, wiping your eyes.

“Steve, please” his face was soft, reassuring.

It took an hour to find you something proper to wear.

A day to get your room fixed up, belongings brought from your little flat in London and new furniture procured

A week before you ate with the team, although you watched them from a safe distance. 

A month before you really spoke to anyone. Eventually they called in a therapist. 

The compound was nice, spacious and modern. There was no work to do, like at your grandfather's flat, just lots of questions that left you tired and disoriented. 

Lauren the therapist was the only person you'd really communicated with, even though you were sure she was relaying the information back to the Avengers anyway. 

"So from what I can tell, she's around twenty five to thirty." Lauren addressed the room, taking in the gathered Avengers. "The details of her life are very hazy, she lived in that flat you visited, Steve, with her Grandad. I know she cared for him and he died some months ago leaving her the flat in his will. She takes medication every day." Laura turned to Bruce "I hope the few I managed to pass on were helpful, so you can refill her script when she needs it." 

"That's the thing," Bruce said, "I can't work out what she's been taking. I've had FRIDAY take scans and vitals, asked Dr Cho, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her." 

"Because she takes her pills?" 

"No, Steve, there's just - there's nothing wrong with her. Her temperature is a little elevated. But that's it, not a dangerous amount. I'd just say she runs warmer."

"So what's in the pills?" Tony asked, leaning over Bruce to look in the manilla file he had spread open on the table. 

"If I didn't know better I'd say something alien."

"But you do know better…" Tony prompted. 

"Adgardian maybe? But in a bottle from her local pharmacy. The name on the bottle’s been scratched off and I couldn’t find anything like this on any pharmacy database."

Tony and Steve turned to Natasha and she nodded. She'd not been able to find anything either.  No phone, no social media, home schooled. Sam suggested they do it the ‘old fashioned way’ and started to encourage Lauren to bring the woman out of her room to spend time with the others in hopes she would make more friends and let more information out.

As you spent more time with the group they found you brought a strange sense of calm, arguments stopped as you approached the table, worries about missions faded away. They even spent more time together as a team organising movie nights and parties, sitting together and being more tactile.

That’s when things started to get very strange.

The old evening routine of everyone slinking off to their bedrooms had been replaced by an easy comradery and then a fizzle of excitement started to build. The music seemed muffled and even Steve and Bucky’s heads felt fuzzy, drunk.

“Let's play spin the bottle!” You declared, downing your beer and lining it up on the coffee table. Before anyone else could fully agree you had flicked the bottle, everyone watched it slow until it came to a stop in front of Wanda.

“You girls don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to,” Steve said. But you shook your head. 

“I don’t mind if Wanda doesn’t… I like girls too and it's just a game, right?” you shrugged.

You leaned over and kissed Wanda quickly on the lips, noting the frisson of tension that built when you pulled away. 

Sam went next, “your lucky night,” he laughed before pulling you in for a kiss. 

The next spin was Natasha and somehow no one was surprised when it landed on you again. Natasha leaned in close but, before her lips could meet yours, you tilted your head to whisper in her ear, “I know there’s someone else you want to kiss, you don’t have to." Natasha blushed, but pressed a warm kiss to your lips anyway.  

“Did you rig this bottle?” Steve asked, picking it up before spinning. You, again.

Bucky put his hand on the bottle. “I wonder who” he laughed, but you had noticed his eyes move across the circle to the red headed assassin. 

As he leaned in for the inevitable kiss you put your hand up, hiding your mouths, “she’s a good kisser,” the words were out before you could stop them. Bucky pulled back, frowning.

“Who?”

You didn't answer, but your eyes danced across the circle to Natasha, studying Bucky's face as he followed the line of your sight. With their eyes locked you placed a chaste kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

You felt dizzy, only two beers in, but your head was swimming. The rest of the group weren’t fairing any better, both girls falling asleep and the boys nodding back against the sofa. Quietly you removed yourself from the pile of blankets and slunk back to your room. You hadn’t meant to say any of that, but you could feel it deeply, so deeply the words had bubbled out before you could swallow them back down. 

That night your sleep troubled you, the room was too warm making you sweat and writhe in the sheets and dreams of the Avengers flashing behind your closed eyes. 

The next morning no one could make eye contact, each team member focusing on their coffee or toast, eyes down.

When you sat down the same static spark of electricity seemed to move over the kitchen island, making everyone squirm and move in their seats.

Eventually Wanda completed the group, walking in red faced and nervous as she looked around the kitchen before visibly relaxing.

“Oh, we all had the same dream!” She exclaimed “I don’t feel so bad now.” She said, cheerily. 

“Wan, you’re not meant to read our minds,” Natasha protested, covering her ears as if that would make any difference at all. 

“Can we not talk about it,” Bucky grumbled, looking away from Natasha.

“But you slept, Bucky, isn’t that good?” At least Wanda was happy, you felt hot and sick “you didn’t have a nightmare like usual, you had the same …”

“Enough,” he snapped, slamming his spoon into his bowl a little too hard, milk splashing on the spotless counters. 

“Your dream was different though,” Wanda put a hand on your temple despite your attempt to squirm away, “yeah, yours was very different. And so was yours,” She pointed at Natasha who looked over to Bucky without thinking.

Wanda squeaked, a hand over her mouth “But Bucky, yours was just like…”

“Thats enough, ” Steve stood hands on the counter, “we need to figure out whatever is going on here,” everyone looked away blushing as he crossed his arms, Captain America voice in full effect. “For goodness sake, I’m going to speak to Bruce.” 

Steve stormed out and a rush of air moved across the island as everyone breathed out. Wanda let out an awkward laugh, head down so she wouldn't catch the eye of her teammates and left the room. 

After that incredibly awkward breakfast you began to pull away from the more open group spaces and started to spend a lot of time in the lab with Bruce while he tried to synthesise your medication. The small unlabeled tube of pills one of Stark’s assistants had packed for you was now empty. But all Bruce had been able to discover was a heavy sedative.

“You shouldn’t have even been able to walk around taking something that strong." He took his glasses off to rub a hand over his face, the fatigue of a sleepless night of experiments catching up to him, "you feel okay now?”

“Yeah”

“But you’re an inch taller than yesterday you said?”

“I’m an inch taller than I was this morning.”

Bruce rubbed his hand on his face, dangling his glasses from the other hand.

“Okay, walk me through what happened again”

“So I sat next to Captain Rodgers and Sergeant Barnes in the kitchen and when I stood up I was an inch taller, I could tell because my jeans were too short.”

“That’s not how growing works,” Bruce took a seat beside you and huffed out a breath. 

“I know that I’m not doing it on purpose”

For the last few days you had been slowly growing the trait of anyone you were in close contact with. It was unnerving everyone, looking up and seeing their eyes glowing back, or their hair colour tinged in highlights around your face. But worse still was that there was no clear explanation, none that you could or would give. 

It wasn’t the only change the team had noticed. Wanda, Nat, Sam, Steve and Bucky spent the most time together and they had all spent the most time alone together with you. But after only a few days they refused to even enter a room if you were there, prefering to skirt around the edges or take a different route.  

They couldn’t forget the night when they played spin the bottle, in fact they had thrown away all the beer of the same brand and there had been no more team evenings suggested. 

When you were alone with them a tension seemed to fill in the air. Steve had shifted your training rotation so that no one was ever left alone in the gym with you. Sam admitted you’d almost kissed last time you were alone and, red faced, Wanda agreed. Natasha and Bucky had also blushed, looking at each other out of the corners of their eyes. They complained that you kept trying to make them stand next to each other, and had even locked them into a cupboard 'by accident’ while pretending that you were unable to find the key until Steve freed them.

You couldn’t seem to control the feeling either, a primal urge inside of you growing the longer you were without your tablets. Growling and clawing until you had to excuse yourself and take a handful of the sleeping pills Bruce had given you. 

Wanda admitted, as you escaped the building tension for the last time, that this was when her dreams were the most extreme and everyone nodded along. Their nights filled with vivid, primal scenes, moaning and panting, the touch and taste of another filling their senses. 

And, though you could hear them talking about you, you could never admit that your dreams were different, that you saw yourself orchestrating their dreams like a puppet master, like a god and you’d wake in a cold sweat. 

Frightened, they placed you in the medical wing, a secure room with two way mirrors, sound proofing and, most importantly, a lock. Bruce told you that it was somewhere safe, where you could withdraw from the medication that was dwindling in the little orange bottle. But Tony was relieved that the team could relax now without you around. 

Alone, you took another sedative and rolled over in your plastic bed, under the thin sheet, and cried. 

The last time the team had met someone who had so easily got inside them and changed their dynamic, they had ended up with an alien invasion. Steve was sure you weren’t in control, thinking about your embarrassment and desperation when Bucky and Natasha were locked in the cupboard, how quickly you left the room whenever the conversation became heated. He was sure, sure , you were safe, that it was just a side effect of whatever you’d been taking all these years and that given time everything would go back to normal. 

Tony, however, was taking no chances. 

“We need to call Thor.” He suggested as they watched you through the mirror, you were reading a book and running your finger over your lip as you concentrated. With each pass of your finger your lips changed colour, working through shades of pink and red. 

“What can Thor do?” Bruce had had enough stress for one month, thank you very much, and was much happier handing out medication until they could find somewhere else to send you. All he needed to do was refine some samples and he’d be able to remake your medication and then he could give Fury the go ahead to have you moved. 

“He can bring Loki,” Tony said, jumping up to sit on the tall lab counter and tossing a few blueberries into his mouth. 

Bruce looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “Is that a good idea? The man’s mad.”

“I don’t want to see him anymore than you do. But they could help us figure out if this is magic like them, or a mutation, or if…it’s something else. Then you can pack her off to whichever medical facility you think is appropriate.” Tony waved his hand around in the air as if to demonstrate the unknown fears they all shared. “She shape shifts, Bruce. Loki can do that. And the manipulating thoughts and feelings? Maybe she can learn to control it. We need her to control herself and maybe, maybe , if we’re nice enough, she’ll want to help us too.”

“Do we really want Loki to teach her that, how do we know we can trust him?” Bruce cringed, thinking of the havoc the man had wrought, even if he was being manipulated. Loki was powerful, who knew what he could achieve with a little planning. 

“Thor can help keep him in line,” Tony seemed confident and although his confidence was often catching, Bruce still felt the deep simmer of apprehension sitting low in his gut. 

“At least we’re not fighting like last time,” Bruce sighed heavily, the memory of his last encounter with Loki still fresh in his mind. 

“No, but the sexual tension is killing me. We need to end this.” Tony laughed, thinking back to the red faces of his colleagues and their lack of enthusiasm when he suggested they get drunk and play spin the bottle again. 

“Okay, fine, Tony, you win. Call Thor.” Bruce sighed, leaning forward onto the counter and resting his head in his hands.

“And Loki?”

“And Loki."

<;< Masterlist

Part 2>>

[reiashiftsrealities]

shifting storytime <3

So sorry for the wait but IM FINALLY POSTING IT LETS GOOOO. So excited to share this experience with you all and I actually am tweaking from how much I want to go back. Also this is NOT proofread I apologize for any mistakes 🫶

DR: Hunger Games

How long was the shift: A week, give or take.

Method: Gaslighting Method (my own)

So in this DR, my name is Loralei Walker, and I’m from District 3. I think I said at least the district already but I’m reiterating. I’m going to be dating Peeta eventually but I didn’t meet him this shift. Finnick, Johanna, and Evangeline (friend I scripted in) are the people i’m closest to.

OH MY GOD okay so when I shifted, I woke up in my room with Chewy curled up in my lap. It like actually scared the living shit out of me so I shot straight up which caused him to nip my leg (granted I did like throw him upwards).

He’s so adorable ☹️☹️. He follows me around EVERYWHERE. He even followed me to the reaping ☹️. I scripted that I can take him to the Capitol cause he’s an emotional support animal, but it’s kind of sad to think that when I actually go to the Arena he can’t follow me :(

Now onto District 3: I didn’t expect this, but D3 is COLDDDD. It is FREEZING. It is FROSTBITE inducing. And blankets are a luxury, ironically. Like ice cubes in D12. Thankfully since I live in the Victor’s Village I have a couple of them but you literally can’t escape the cold.

Another thing; In D3, kids start learning about their district career at like 4 years old. School is from 5 am to 5 pm, kids 4-18. At 16, you have the option to take a test about 16-18 curriculum, and if you pass you get to graduate. If not, you stay until you’re 18. No do-overs. Not going to school is punishable by death. There are only a few careers you can choose from, which are: Technical Engineering, Technology Advancement, Robotics, and Computer Science. Being a Victor automatically exempts you from school + choosing a career.

D3 is very desolate and dark, considering we’re a tech district. There isn’t much wildlife or wilderness as big buildings completely take over the land.

District 3, except it’s a bit smaller.

Okay so onto the Reaping: That shit can only be described as ominous. Like watching it on TV really cannot compare to how it felt IRL. Hearing my name being called was like chilling almost, and I expected it! Literally can’t even think about how it must feel for the people who didn’t. My District partner was Beetee, which was so sad cause he was my mentor during my Games. After we left, he told me he’d do everything to make sure I was safe. I started crying he’s so sweet.

The train ride to the Capitol was SOOO AMAZING. I couldn’t even think about the fact that I was going to the Captiol. Seeing the Districts was so crazy, the Captiol really can’t compare to the beauty of them. I can’t remember which District it was, but we passed by a huge sunflower field. It was so pretty. And the sky was like a purple/pink. I wanted that sky tattooed on my body it was so pretty.

When we pulled up to the Capitol I was like IMMEDIATELY greeted by my prep team. I couldn’t remember their names and my stylist couldn’t either so we just called them Hughie, Dughie, and Lewie.

OH MY GOD I LOVE MY STYLIST SOOOOO BAD. Her name is Xotia and she’s a literal goddess oh my god she slayed so bad. Hold on I’ll show you the getup she had me in.

My outfit as a mood board. Didn’t wanna put that many photos.

SEE????? She ate so bad holy shit. Had me down bad for myself anyways

Slight deviation; My first impression upon meeting Finnick was “this mf crazy.” The aura on that man is INSANE. He’s such a natural flirt despite being enamored with Evangeline. I didn’t really meet anyone else besides Johanna, and she is actually insane. Her and Finnick are really good friends and they complement each-other well. Also, Johanna is a major lesbian. Like major. Yes I scripted she was but I’m considering it canon ☹️

I shifted back around the time we got to the training centre so I didn’t get to meet my man BUT I will definitely next time I shift 🫶 so I’m not upset about that. Besides I could’ve stayed longer but I didn’t want to.

All in all I am SOSOSOSOSOSOSO in love with this DR and actually can’t wait to be back I’m literally tweaking oh my god i canMt do this

Edit: IM SO DAMN SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG IVE BEEN FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE FOR LIKE TWO WEEKS PLS ☹️☹️☹️. Not an excuse really but it’s finally here so yay!!!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[cealchylle]

I've been thinking about what Ballad says about the nature of evil.

Evil isn't born, it is made. Evil doesn't live in our thoughts, or personalities, it is manifested by our actions. Coriolanus doesn't start out evil because he hasn't done anything wrong. In fact, he does quite a lot of good things in the book, including protecting and helping Lucy Gray in the games.

We see through Coriolanus's narration the change in his worldview. At first, he's skeptical and doesn't quite believe Dr Gaul that humanity in its "natural" state is brutal and violent. But by the end, he has fully embraced this teaching. And it's easy to see why, since we are privy to his thought processes. He sees incredible violence from a young age. He was conditioned and manipulated into becoming who he is. Which is ironic, because he never sees that the brutality he is witnessing is caused by manipulated circumstances. The Hunger Games are literally engineered and run by a Gamemaker. The Capitol creates the very need for violence in the games and in the districts, where people rebel in order to be free. If Coriolanus had ever gotten to freedom, he would be a completely different person.

It's just like Gale. Was Gale evil? I don't think so, but he designed and contributed to something evil. Was Coin evil? She was responding to the environment around her, to the atrocities committed by the Capitol. It's about the cycle of violence perpetuating itself.

Was Billy Taupe evil? He was an anti-Capitol rebel, but he cheated on Lucy Gray. He called her "my girl" just like Snow did, even when she didn't want him. Instead of protecting her, he tried to kill her and drag her down with him in the end.

These characters are all complex and their actions are sometimes good. It's not that Coriolanus was always evil, it's just that his trauma and background made him a prime target for conditioning by adults who had already been corrupted.

[sleepy-gee]

🦋 desolation - avox!coryo au - snowjanus week day 2

🦋 day 2: canon divergence 🦋 “All snow melts under heat, dear boy. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Now, hold still..”

🦋 trigger warnings/tags: gore, blood, dark fic, mutilation, starvation, dehumanization.. the whole nine. dunno what you'd call it but coryo is put into a market system and sold so warning for that too. vomiting.

🦋 a/n: this is for you, avox!coryo nation

“Tell me, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul hummed, running a gloved finger along the edge of her blade. Coriolanus’ mouth went dry. Any second now, that blade would silence him for eternity. “Was it worth it? Your little plan to save your songbird?”

Coriolanus didn’t answer yet, dropping his gaze to the marble floor of her lab. Highbottom’s taunts echoed in his head on repeat like a scratched record– “You hear that, boy? It’s the sound of snow falling..” He couldn’t have failed. Snow’s don’t fall. They pull through. Always have and always will. He bit his tongue to hold back some of the tears that threatened to slip. Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry.

“I urge you to speak now, young man.” Dr. Gaul took a step towards him. “I fear you won’t have the chance to again for a very, very long time.”

“.. What do you want me to say?” He croaked. “Do you want me to beg? To plead for your forgiveness and mercy?” Coriolanus glanced up at her, gaze as venomous as the snakes she loved to toy with.

“If you did, I fear you’d make a fool of yourself.” She grabbed his chin harshly. “You knew the consequences and yet you still cheated. All for some girl you barely knew.”

“She wouldn’t have stood a chance if I didn’t..” Coriolanus stuttered, trying to pull away from her grasp. “It’s not right.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve had a change of heart now. It’s much too late for that, Mr. Snow… You say you won’t beg for mercy, but in a way, you are. A convict on trial, saying whatever he can to get himself out of the death penalty.” Dr. Gaul laughed, a horrid sound. “Predator turned prey.. Isn’t that funny? You climbed your way to the top of the food chain, only to get forced back down to the bottom of it.”

The tears in his eyes finally gave away. The taste of iron filled his mouth, no doubt from the abuse of his poor tongue. Sick as it was, he relished in it. Relished in feeling the weight of it in his mouth, every little thing he could taste in there. Death would’ve been better than this, he thought. But weren’t they the same thing? He’d be reduced to nothing. A hollow shell unable to speak or express himself. Trapped in silence forever. The fear he felt made it nearly impossible to breathe, too.

“Aw..” She wiped one of his tears away. Coriolanus pulled back like he had burned her. “All snow melts under heat, dear boy. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Now, hold still..”

...

A cruel memory, one he tried to block out. Filled with panic and broken screams. Blood pouring out of his mouth onto his lap, a waterfall of consequence settling into a pool on the ground beneath him. He tried and tried to plead for help, begging for her to stop, but she never would. Sadism used to taste so sweet, Now it was cold and bitter. Served cold just like her revenge, she said. Revenge for what, he wanted to ask. For ruining her games? For giving her the show she wanted?

Was it all a mistake?

The Dean’s confrontation was playing on repeat in his head. If he had said something different, done something else..

“President Ravenstill has left your form of punishment up to me. I talked amongst my fellow colleagues and we believed that being sent to the districts as an anonymous, peacekeeping grunt might’ve been suitable.. But then an Avox walked in.. and I had another one of my brilliant ideas. I thought, if he’s anything like his father– Which he is– Then having him go to the districts would be just as bad as having him walk free.”

“Still..” He stammered. “Don’t you think that’s too far?”

“Like I said, anyone caught cheating will simply have no future at all. You made your bed, Coriolanus. Time to lie in it.. I think a good night's rest will do you some good. It’s the last you’ll be having for a while.”

Then, he was sent home to spread the news to his family. But the second he got home and saw the hopeful looks in his family’s eyes, the words got stuck in his throat, and all he could do was sob. They sent a van to take him to Dr. Gaul’s office before the sun was even up the next morning, leaving him with little to no time to say goodbye or get things in order. Somehow, he’d managed to fit in a little nap on the way there– It’s not like he could do anything.

His last (coherent) words, officially, were “Don’t fucking touch me-!”. At least that made him sound stronger than he actually words. He’d never live it down if he spent his last moments with the ability to speak sobbing and pleading.

After the ordeal, they left him for around ten minutes– Alone, bleeding out, but God did it feel like eternity. When they did return, they loosely patched him up and left him alone again. Coriolanus spent most of his ‘recovery’ period sleeping.. Because what else was there to do? When he wasn’t sleeping, he was staring at his mangled reflection in the little mirror one of Gaul’s assistants had left.

A week later, they tossed him out into the market. Coriolanus wasn't aware the Avox market could be so bustling, but it was.. And, God, was it miserable. Chained and pulled around like a circus animal, put on display.

The things people said made him sick.

"You sure are a pretty one.. But I'm afraid I'm out of room."

"Why is he marked up so high? I know he's a Snow, but geez.. 5k for an Avox is too much."

They talked about him like he was a fucking dog. A dog. He was a Snow, for fucks sake. A Snow! Scratch that, a real person. A person with emotions, thoughts, feelings..

He was sick to his stomach. This was the government he had advocated for?

...

Coriolanus stayed on the market for about a week or so (he couldn't tell. Time was a fucking blur) until someone finally decided to "buy" him. He was loaded into the back of another van and dumped into another basement.

This.. Is my new forever, I guess.

...

He'd fallen asleep again. What else was there to do? He was told he had two weeks to recover before they'd put him to work. At least they had a little humanity. He was the only Avox in the house too, apparently, so he knew he'd be overworked.

Oh well. Nothing I can do now.

Coriolanus was attempting to fall asleep for the millionth time when the door to his room opened, and a stream of light came pouring in..

Followed by a voice he thought he'd never hear again.

"Hey, Coryo. I brought you some soup.."

Sejanus fucking Plinth.

Coriolanus sits up quickly, blinking away the tears. The Plinths are the ones that bought him?!

"Take it easy.." Sejanus sat next to him, holding a glass bowl filled with delicious smelling soup in his hands. "I know you're probably confused.. And scared. I wouldn't blame you."

What the fuck am I supposed to do? Coriolanus wanted to say. He felt his mouth move out of habit. But there was no tongue to move.

"We, uh.. Caught word of what happened. So I begged my parents to buy you.. I think it made my Pa happy, letting him spend some of his money on me." Sejanus stirred the soup with a spoon. "I couldn't risk anything happening to you."

Coriolanus gave him a small hum of acknowledgement. Great. He's going to live out the rest of his days as a servant to the Plinth family? District scum? Ugh.

"Pa put me in charge of taking care of you, so.. We'll be spending a lot of time together, eh?" Sejanus tried to cheer him up with a smile. Stupid boy. The smile faded. "I.. Got you some soup? I dunno how well you can handle food right now, but I didn't want you to go hungry.. You look like you need it."

Sejanus held up the spoon to him like he was a toddler. This is what I've been reduced to. Hesitantly, he opened his mouth and let the soup pass. The vibrant taste he was expecting- Courtesy of Ma Plinth- was let down by the taste of nothing. That's odd. Ma's creations are normally delicious–

... Oh.

Another thing. He'd never taste again.

Coriolanus swallowed the soup awkwardly, grimacing. It hurt, but it was better than nothing.

"There you go.." Sejanus hummed, continuing to feed him. "I'll get you as good as new in no time.."

He finished the bowl rather quickly, finding himself disappointed when Sejanus set it to the side. Shouldn't there be more? He's barely had anything in weeks. Refeeding syndrome is a very real thing, but he's gone off of less for longer and eaten more right after.

Sejanus placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're safe now. You're troubles are over, Coryo. I'm gonna make sure of that."

Coriolanus glared at him. You're wrong. They've just begun.

taglist: @officialelioperlman @on-plvto @runningfrom2am @theirgayyourhonour

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 23

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. 

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

I saw the Mercedes logo and felt the jolt of adrenaline begin to fade out of my body. I put a hand on my head and sunk back against the iron gates when I saw Dr. Miller exit the vehicle.

My eyes closed and I swallowed hard. “You scared me.” I breathed the words and remained frozen in place. My body couldn't take another jolt that night. Two were too many.

My eyes opened when I felt Dr. Miller in my personal space and I accepted a quick kiss from him.

He studied my expression and his smile faded. “Are you okay?”

“Just a little freaked out,” I admitted. “I didn't think you'd be here for an hour so when the car pulled up I froze.”

“I'm sorry.” He touched my face gently. 

I placed my hand over his, relieved he was there in front of me. “No, don't be. It's me. I got shaken up at school and then this.” I shook my head.

Dr. Miller’s eyebrows edged together and teased his forehead. “What happened at school?”

“Can we talk inside?”

He nodded and I could see the concern written all over his face. I turned and punched in the code fully, making the gates edge open and then pulled up the force way ahead of him.

The second we crossed in through the front door, Dr. Miller helped remove my coat from off my shoulders and then confronted me immediately.

“What happened?” He asked.

We were barely a step inside and I knew he wasn't about to let it go.

“Nothing really.” I shook my head.

“Something.” Dr. Miller put his hands on his hips in a fatherly fashion and stared at me intently.

I took a deep breath and reached for his hand, kicking off my shoes in the process. I pulled him with me into the living room so we weren't just standing in the near-dark by the doorway.

Dr. Miller gave in to my non-verbal request and trailed me to the living room. In the corner of the room was a decanter and he helped himself to his typical small pour of bourbon as he turned on a few stray lights in the process.

“Would you like some?” He offered, but I shook my head and he quickly joined me on the comfortable, oversized couch.

“It was probably nothing,” I began.

“I'll be the judge of that.” Dr. Miller sipped his drink and rested his elbows on his knees as he sat forward with his drink in between his hands. His head was turned so his eyes were on mine.

I settled back into the couch and threw a blanket over my lap. “After class I texted you back, and then I texted James. I scooted into the bathroom by the elevator before I left and someone tried to open the door to my stall. I said that I would be right out.”

“It's a multi-stall bathroom?”

I nodded. “Yeah. There's three.” When he didn't ask another question I went on. “Then the person knocked. I told them again I'd be right out. And then they started banging hard on the door and turning the handle over and over until I told them I was on the phone with campus police.”

“And then what happened?”

“They left.” I shrugged and Dr. Miller took a drink. “I texted James and he came down.”

His eyes shifted back to meet mine and he squinted hard. “Why didn't you call me?”

“You were teaching.”

“So what.”

“So.. I.. didn't want to interrupt you.”

“(Y/N), you were attacked!”

“I wasn't attacked.”

“That's..” Dr. Miller pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He didn't say anything for a long moment.

“I'm.. I'm sorry.. I just thought it wouldn't be appropriate to call you and-”

“Appropriate?” He practically shouted the word.

“Well, we’re not exactly supposed to be together according to the university,” I reminded him just a little sternly. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Call me!” He said, rising to his feet with his arms out wide.

“And what would people think then?” I asked, challenging him.

“I don't really give a shit what people would think,” he shouted back again, pointing a finger in my direction, scolding me further. “Two women have been killed on campus.”

“I'm aware.” I raised my voice just a little.

“And you still act so..” Dr. Miller stopped himself and sipped his drink.

“So what?”

“Nothing.” He looked away.

“So stupid?” I asked, to which he didn't answer. “I called James.”

“You called James,” he scoffed with a huff of a laugh. “Your lanky, little friend who couldn't fend off a squirrel if it attacked you.”

“I didn't want to bother you-”

“Next time you call me,” Dr. Miller instructed harshly as he pinged his own chest hard with his index finger. “Me.” He shook his head and turned his back on me. I felt a lump develop in my throat and tried not to cry out of frustration. “Someone threatens you in the bathroom and-”

“No one threatened me,” I cut him off with a shout and felt my voice crack.

Dr. Miller whipped around and I could see he was prepared to continue with his rant, but he saw my damp eyes and stopped himself.

Fuck. I didn't want to cry. I felt so foolish for crying, but after being on edge twice that night and then having Dr. Miller unexpectedly yell at me over the bathroom incident, I couldn't completely hold it together.

I sniffed in and drew a hand under my eyes to wipe away the tear that fell from each. And then I didn't let any more fall. I looked away toward the windows to the right and saw Dr. Miller approach from the corner of my eye.

He set the bourbon glass down and squatted in front of me, placing his hands on my thighs over the blanket. When he bowed his head I looked down at him and let out a deep exhale.

“I'm sorry.” Dr. Miller shook his head, still eying the floor. “I shouldn't have raised my voice. I..” He shook his head and there was another long pause. “You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just..” He took a deep breath and finally looked up at me. “I don't want anything to happen to you. And something could have tonight.”

“But it didn't.”

“It could have,” he repeated. “Don't ever hesitate to call me. Your safety is my priority. I don't care about my job at the university. If someone finds out, they find out.” Dr. Miller shrugged. “Your safety is an exception to everything.”

“I didn't want to interrupt your lesson.”

“Fuck the lesson.” The stern nature of his voice returned but he seemed to reset again as he looked down and back up at me. “It was smart to call James. I'm sure he scared off whoever it was, but if you're ever in a situation like that again-”

“I'll call you,” I agreed. My eyes were locked on his and neither of us flinched for several seconds.

Dr. Miller finally nodded before taking my face in his hands. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes when he kissed me. At the same time I felt tears escape the corners of my eyes again and when he pulled back I could see the remorse in his expression.

“Don't cry,” he begged. “I'm sorry.”

I pulled him in for a hug and he buried his face in the nook of my neck. “I’ll call you next time.”

“I just don’t want to see anything happen to you,” Dr. Miller said against me.

“I know.”

When he pulled back I leaned in at the same time that he did and we shared another kiss.

“I cut my class short to come home early,” he added. “I just.. I don’t like the idea of you being here alone.”

“Here or anywhere?” I asked honestly.

“Anywhere,” Dr. Miller admitted right away. He continued to hold my stare. “Do you think someone was after you tonight?”

I hesitated before shrugging. “I really don’t know. Maybe someone was just being impatient. Maybe they had a bad day.” It was the same thing I had said to James. “It could’ve been something worse, but I don’t know.”

“Did you get a look at the person?”

I shook my head. “No.” I wish I hadn’t froze up and had it in me to look through the small space in the stall door.

Dr. Miller nodded to himself and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be sorry.” He held me against him again and I melted into him. Dr. Miller kissed my forehead. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” I told him.

He let out a deep breath against me and then toyed with my hair. I finally cracked a small smile.

“Let me make you dinner,” Dr. Miller said. “And then we can watch a little TV and go to bed.”

“Okay.”

Our lips touched again and he helped me up off the couch. I reached down for his bourbon glass and took a small sip before handing it to him. It made him smirk.

“Hey,” I remembered my conversation with Tori. “Did you pay my rent for two months?”

“Yes.” Dr. Miller said directly with a nod.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He looked around the spacious room and then looked back to me. “Move in with me.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” Dr. Miller looked at me. “You’re here all the time anyway. I know it’s only been about a month, but it’s one of those things when you know, you know. I want you to stay here.. permanently.”

Permanently. Why was I one-hundred percent on board with no questions asked - and even less questions answered?

Maybe because you’re falling in love with your hot, rich professor? I reminded myself. I truly didn’t care that Dr. Miller had money. Sure, the castle was unlike anything I had ever seen in my life and it was over-the-top extravagant. But, I would have lived in a tiny, one-bedroom apartment with him in any neighborhood, any town, any place. I was caught up. Caught up in him and his look, his personality, his sexy allure. Dr. Miller was magnetic and I was clinging to him for dear life.

“What do you say?” He asked, swirling the whiskey in this glass before taking a sip. His eyes still pierced mine as he drank.

A smile formed on my face that, for some reason, I was trying to hold back. And then it got bigger and wider and I began to giggle. Dr. Miller smiled, as I was sure he could already suspect what my answer was.

“Yes.” I laughed some more and answered again, “I say yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes!” 

Yes. I was moving in with Dr. Miller. And I couldn’t even address him by name. How warped. But I couldn’t deny it, I was completely caught up - and I was loving every minute of it.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @jiminstinypinky @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1

[tennessoui]

I'm begging on my hands and knees for more Twilight au, and those are words I never thought I'd say! Anakin being able to resist compulsion, and Obi-Wan seeming instantly obsessed, and poor Shmi! Pretty please 🥺🙏

hey!! sure! here's some more!

(2.5k)

Having a sheriff for a mom sucked a lot when he was a kid growing up in a small town. There was probably nothing Anakin was rebelling against more at eleven, at thirteen, at seventeen than the rule of law his mother represented. 

All things considered, she was pretty good at separating her home life from her worklife. It was Anakin who was bad at respecting the separation, Anakin who couldn’t keep son out of delinquent.  There’s only so many times he could be pulled out of wreckage and bars and buildings with Keep Out No Trespassing signs on them before he got The Sheriff at home and out in public.

He’d hated it growing up and had come to grudgingly respect it later and in fits and starts. His dad dying had, terribly and ironically, helped a lot. His mother had had a stroke just before and then Anakin had been faced with the possibility of being an orphan, and the terror of that had mellowed him out.

Sorta.

He still hates a lot of things about his mother’s job. Especially the fact that she’s the sheriff of a very small town.

And when people talk, she listens.

The thing about small towns is that everyone’s always fucking talking. And other people are always fucking lsitening so they can talk later. One big fucking community, which means when Anakin comes home from his weird doctor’s appointment with Dr. Kenobi, a few hours later because he took a detour biking along the edge of the seaside cliffs just to spit in the good doctor’s metaphorical face, Shmi Skywalker already knows more than Anakin ever planned to tell her.

Like, for instance, “Sheila says that Dr. Kenobi thought it would behoove you to spend some time at the local library volunteering.”

Anakin pauses, backpack half-slung off his shoulders. He hangs his stuff up slowly, careful to keep his tone very light. “Did Sheila say what I told him after he said that?” 

His mom’s silence is very loud.

“I don’t want to do i—”

“I asked the new librarian about it on my way home from the station. She thinks it’s a wonderful idea. Apparently we used to have a program like that in the forties but it died out during the war.”

“Mom, come on—”

“It’ll look good on resumes, saying you created and supported a local reading program.”

“Yeah, but I’m a bit too old to be applying for babysitting positio—”

“It’ll look good for me as well,” Shmi says in her sheriff voice. “Elections are coming up soon. It’ll be good, if my kid was involved in the community.”

Anakin’s glad that his back is still turned to the living room, where his mom is sitting. “Are you gonna run again?” he asks, paying special attention to his tone this time.

“Why wouldn’t I?” his mom replies. “I’ve been sheriff for a decade and a half.”

Anakin lets his eyes fall closed for a second, knowing that his face can’t be seen. This is how they end up half the time: Shmi’s ardent belief that she is invincible, going up against Anakin’s desperate desire for her to be so.

And they just don’t talk about it. As if they’re actually in agreement.

He knows how this is going to shake out.

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?” His mother asks.

Anakin’s eyes remain closed. “I guess so,” he says.

—--------

Mrs. Kenobi—call me Satine—is sort of scary up close. She’s tall. She glides between bookshelves. Anakin’s never met someone who glides before. And she’s so intensely, incredibly, blindingly perfect that Anakin would rather be anywhere but in her vicinity. There’s something incredibly unnerving about the symmetry of her face, the sharpness of her cheekbones. She’s obviously an absolute knock-out, just drop-dead gorgeous, but it makes Anakin’s skin crawl and his heart beat fast, but not in a good way or a normal teenage boy way.

Anakin tries to keep the unease off his face as Satine leads him through a tour of the library, a gentle hand on his forearm. That’s another thing Anakin doesn’t really like. She’s wearing satin gloves. He doesn’t know anyone who wears gloves anymore.

It’s just all a bit…unsettling.

“I put in a few words around the school yesterday afternoon,” Satine tells him. They pass by the mystery section, the fantasy section, and take a hard right into the young adult section. The shelves are smaller here, and Anakin feels rather stupidly gigantic as he and Satine walk through them. “To some parents picking their children up after school. They agreed it would be good exposure to bring them to the library for an hour or so of reading before supper.”

Anakin highly doubts it will be, but Satine hasn’t really asked him.

She sweeps past his figure and pushes open a pair of double doors with a flourish better suited for a Russian tsarina hosting an elaborate ball than a small town librarian showing off a small, cramped, and dusty room filled with padded seats and threadbare rugs.

And then, as if she has been waiting to put the last nail in the proverbial coffin, Satine adds, “A few students from the local high school will be here as well.”

“Sorry,” Anakin says, “are you saying I’m going to be reading to high school students? Can’t they do that themselves?”

After all, Anakin went to high school here. Academics hadn’t been too rigorously challenging, but they’d taught the fucking basics.

Satine raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow in his direction. “They’ll be volunteering as well.”

Oh. Right.

“It looks good on their college applications,” Satine waves a hand through the air and the words linger there. Anakin looks out the rather dirty window, jaw clenching. “I’ve already chosen a handful of books I think the young ones will enjoy.”

Anakin, committed to his fate, pads over to the titles placed carefully ontop of a short, stout side table. 

“Peter the Rabbit,” he reads off the top. “Peter Pan. Alice in Wonderland. Treasure Island. The Prince and the Pauper—look, you’re the librarian here, but don’t you have anything written this century maybe? Harry Potter, even.”

“These are classics,” Satine tells him, her nose raised into the air as if she has encountered something particularly foul-smelling. She turns away, presumably to return to the front desk so she can welcome half the fucking town inside the library so Anakin can read them fucking Anne of Green Gables and become a better person.

“These are fucking boring,” he mutters to himself, flicking the cover of the first book, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz open. Publication date: 1900. “I’d rather be in Kenobi’s office getting lectured at.”

There’s a sharp noise of disapproval from the doorway, and Anakin’s head snaps up to see the tail end of a very heated look from the librarian before the door closes behind her.

He shivers, alone in the emply room, and it takes several long minutes for his heart to settle back into its normal pace. 

—----------

After the fourth kid sneezes, Anakin closes his book with a snap and stands from the very small chair they’ve got him sitting on. “Come on,” he tells the cluster of children he’s been assigned to. “We’re getting out of here.”

“Are you kidnapping us?” One of them, a snot-nosed kid who’d started the sneezing says, rubbing at her cheek beneath her glasses. “Cause mommy says that’s not allowed.”

“I’m not kidnapping you,” Anakin snaps back, barely holding in his natural follow-up to the sentence which is of course, I don’t want to be around any of you in the first place. “Also, just for future reference, you shouldn’t ask if someone’s kidnapping you after you already start following them.”

The girl scowls and reaches up her hand to hold onto Anakin’s. 

For the love of Christ.

“We’re just going to go into the main part of the library,” Anakin tells his children, all six of them. “They have windows out there.”

They have windows out there and they also have parents. Parents who absolutely should be doing other things with their lives and precious hour of extra freetime.

Parents who are clustered instead around the library’s front desk as the town’s newest librarian holds court.

“Is reading time over?” one of the kids asks him, turning his head to look up at Anakin.

Anakin thinks about it. “Do you want reading time to be over?”

The kid thinks about it back. “Yeah,” he decides. “You don’t do the voices good.”

“It’s a boring book,” Anakin tells the kid. “Voices aren’t going to make it better.”

“Voices always make it better,” another kid says. “They make everything better.”

“Oh look,” Anakin says. “Is that your father?”

He gestures vaguely towards the cluster of drooling middle-aged somethings focused on Satine.

The kid peeks around his thigh and then shakes his head. “No,” he says. “That’s Dr. Obi.”

“Dr. Obi!” The kid holding Anakin’s hand says, and she lets go.

Anakin gets a bad feeling about this, a feeling that only doubles when he turns around to see Dr. Kenobi sauntering towards him, hands tucked into the pockets of a long dark jacket that makes him look even more pale than he already is.

He scowls automatically as the man gets closer. “Dr. Obi.”

Dr. Kenobi spares him a look that’s far too amused for Anakin’s pleasure before he crouches down to the level of the kids. “Hello there, young ones,” he says, opening his arms to accept a hug from the traitor of a girl Anakin’s just spent thirty minutes reading to. “Are you eating all your vegetables? Even the brussel sprouts?”

“I like brussel sprouts,” one of the kids reports sounding proud, and that starts a cacophony of opinions about brussel sprouts from all around Anakin.

“Wow! One of mine just absolutely hates them,” Dr. Kenobi says. “She refuses to eat them, so you’re very brave, Michele.” He lets go of the girl and turns his golden-brown gaze up to Anakin. “And what does Mr. Skywalker think?” he asks, raising a hand for Anakin to take. It’s very obvious he’s asking for a hand up and Anakin is obeying before he thinks about it. He snatches his hand free almost too soon, but Dr. Kenobi doesn’t even have the grace to lose his balance and fall over. 

His hand is like ice in Anakin’s, and Anakin stuffs his fingers into the pocket of his jacket automatically a second later.

“Do brussel sprouts help with circulation?” he’s biting out before he can stop himself. “Cause you may need some then.”

Kenobi’s head tilts very slightly to the side as his eyes catch and hold onto Anakin’s. “Oh?” he asks lightly. 

“You’re cold,” is all Anakin mutters in return. He swipes his other hand against the back of his neck. “”S poor circlutation, isn’t it? Something in your diet maybe?” Dr. Kenobi blinks at him and then breaks into a wide smile. “I can assure my diet is very…circulation-mindful,” he says. “Blood health positive.”

Anakin’s mouth thins into a line. He guesses that’s what he gets for trying to give health advice to a doctor, especially a doctor like Kenobi who just so happens to be devastatingly attractive and also smart.

And also an asshole. And also married.

Speaking of which. “Are you here to fend off your wife’s admirers with a scalpel?” Kenobi’s eyebrows raise. “Young ones,” he turns his head away from Anakin, down to the children.

The strangest feeling breaks of Anakin the second Kenobi looks away, almost as if a strange pressure he hadn’t even realized had been building was suddenly dissolved.

The very small beginnings of a headache begin to thrum in his temples.

“Young ones, it’s time to find your parents, isn’t it?” Kenobi says, and like fucking magic, the crowd of six children around Anakin disperse, children swarming away from him towards the group of adults surrounding the front desk.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” Anakin blurts out, even though he’d meant to ignore Kenobi now that he doesn’t have to make nice in front of small kids. Not that he was really making nice in the first place. But now he definitely doesn’t have to.

Kenobi gives him a half-smile, eyes heavy-lidded. “It’s a special sort of skill that takes, above all else, much practice.”

Anakin scowls. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Does Kenobi think he can’t commit himself to something even as mundane as a fucking commanding persona? Does he think he doesn’t have it in him to be–-

Kenobi’s eyebrows go up again. “Has anyone ever told you that you are exceedingly defensive?” 

“You’re extremely nosey,” Anakin snaps back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t you have better things to focus on right now anyway?”

He gestures loosely towards Satine, who has started playing with one of the mother’s bracelets as the other woman stands and looks at her rather dumbfounded.

Kenobi follows his gaze and then lets out a huff of laughter. “Satine can take care of herself,” he says, even though it hadn’t really been Satine that Anakin was worried about.

He’s about to open his mouth to say so when Kenobi turns back to him. His eyes are piercing, a dark, captivating sort of gold. 

“Do you find my wife beautiful, Anakin?” he asks.

Anakin blinks. His headache is getting worse, which is probably down to what can only be a trick-question fashioned to look like a grenade lobbed at his feet. “I don’t think there’s a good answer to that,” he mutters, rubbing absently at his forehead. “What the fuck.”

“An honest answer is a good one,” Kenobi says lightly. “Tell me honestly.”

The words feel pulled from Anakin’s stomach, and he’s opening his mouth before he realizes it. “No,” he says. 

Kenobi’s eyebrows crinkle together. “No?”

Anakin curses his stupid impulse control. “She’s beautiful,” he adds quickly. “Really. But…it makes me uncomfortable.”

Kenobi’s lips purse, and then there’s something like disappointment in his eyes as he examines Anakin. “Ah yes,” he murmurs. “I’ve been told my wife can make countless young men feel rather uncomfortable. It’s normal in men your age, Anakin. Sexual ar—”

“Uncanny,” Anakin blurts out. He doesn’t mean to, but he also doesn’t want to listen to  Kenobi trying to lecture him on fucking arousal in the public library. When it’s not even relevant. “She’s so beautiful, it’s uncanny.”

“Uncanny.”

“Yeah, like. Monstrous.”

Kenobi’s mouth falls open, pink lips parted in what looks like honest surprise.

Anakin’s own eyes widen as it hits him that he’s just called Kenobi’s wife a monster to Kenobi’s face.

“Shit,” he says. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m going to go.” 

He throws a look at Kenobi, whose eyes are lit with something a lot like interest and then across the library to where Satine’s head is turned, cocked, and eyebrows up high on her forehead, as if she’s just heard everything he’s said.

He decides rather immediately that he’s going to take the backdoor exit.

[yuri-is-online]

Do the timeline post!!

Right so before I get cracking on this I want to make a few things clear:

This is all speculation and should not be taken as fact, due to how XP and stamina gain work in this game I will probably re-vist this post once I am finally able to work on Zayne's myths card (i am prioritizing Xavier since I have both of his as opposed to just one of Zayne)

For simplicity's sake this post is just going to be focused on Zayne, though I will reference things from the other boy's lore where applicable. He ironically seems to have the easiest timeline to understand, which is saying something.

I will gladly make a post for Xavier later this week when I am able to unlock his last anecdote, but if you are more interested in Rafayel I will have to direct you to this post by u/joonmin on the love and deepspace subreddit as I don't have a lot of Rafayel cards and lack the information they posted. I will say that he seems to have the most complicated timeline out of all three of the love interests, and that a lot of the information on that thread won't make sense if you have not read chapter 7.

Ok? Ok. Here is my best attempt at a timeline for Love and Deepspace Zayne: SPOILERS FOR ALL IN GAME CONTENT UP TO CHAPTER 7, VARIOUS MOMENTS, AND ANECDOTES, PROCEED WITH CARE.

I lied I have one more thing I want to clarify: yes there is a timeloop/alternate reality thing going on in this game. That is not really something that I think needs debating because that's kind of the genre this developer does, and the game starts off telling you that the deepspace tunnel is a spacetime anomaly. It isn't subtext, it is just text.

Current Timeline

The current timeline where the main story of LAD takes place is set in the year 2048 in a place called Linkon City. We are told that the Deepspace Tunnel opened 14 years prior and that is when wanderers started invading earth. There is a lack of understanding about why this has happened, and it has sparked an interest in space exploration in the hopes of finding a solution.

The hunters association is sort of like an adventurers guild? It's supervised by the government, and is sort of split between Hunters like MC and researchers attempting to understand what makes the wanderers tick.

This includes researching protocores, currently the only thing the hunter's association knows for sure is that they contain a great deal of energy, and that they can cause disease in humans based off of which category the protocore falls into. This is confirmed to be what is wrong with MC.

It is also mentioned that protocore energy is used for lots of things, in technology I assume. This will be important later so keep it in mind.

The "arctic" that chapter 5 is set in appears to be referring to the Northern arctic circle. The in game "spacepedia" says there are lots of energy fluctuations (and therefore wanderer attacks) due to its close proximity to the earth's magnetic pole. The epicenter of these fluctuations appears to be Mt. Eternal, where most of the research institutions in the arctic are based.

There seem to be sort of "fixed points" that repeat themselves within Zayne and Rafayel's timelines, and a theme of MC forgetting things. The lyrics to the opening theme even say "Time goes by but memories rewind" and while Zayne doesn't say MC has forgotten anything to do with him specifically, she has forgotten something about both Xavier and Rafayel. For Rafayel, the thing she forgets also seems to be his "fixed point": he and MC always meet when they are younger. For Zayne, he always hurts someone with his evol at age 12.

While there are technically three versions of Zayne and two of them seem to be aware of each other: current/Dr. Zayne and Dawnbreaker Zayne. They both started dreaming of each other at 12. It is unclear if either version dreams about Forseer Zayne, or if he is aware of them, but all three versions of Zayne are fond of jasmine. I haven't made much progress with Zayne's myths card, but it is clear that this like has something to do with MC, just from the little bit I have been able to read.

Dr. Zayne dislikes talking about the incident when he was 12, simply telling his friend Will that he lost control of his evol and hurt someone. He refers to this someone as a friend, and I might be a smidge delusional... but I think that friend was probably MC. If she's forgotten about it, Dr. Zayne might see that as "for the best" and not wish to remind her of it.

It would also explain why Grandma trusted him with MC's care and those secret documents. He has gone very far out of his way to try and not be someone who hurts people, and is obsessed with working himself to the bone to save as many people as possible. Grandma might seem like a sweet old lady... but we know she has some questionable morals so I could see someone like her thinking that since Dr. Zayne feels like he owes MC he is a good choice to protect her since he won't betray her.

The Fragmented Dreams moment is typically pointed to when talking about Dr. Zayne and Dawnbreaker's dream connection, but after reading the Never Ending Winter anecdote I don't really think it is. Look at what the nightmare actually says:

I think this moment starts out with Dr. Zayne dreaming about MC coming to visit him at work and bring him lunch, but devolves into him dreaming about what he did when he was 12. Dr. Zayne's dreams of Dawnbreaker as depicted in the anecdote are almost always related to his mercy kills, he doesn't seem to see the finer details I'll get into when discussing Dawnbreaker's timeline. The anncedote makes me think that Dr. Zayne sees Dawnbreaker as a sort of manifestation of his fears for himself; he fears becoming a killer, he fears hurting people, the only things Dr. Zayne wants is to save lives. That wish applies to more people than just the MC, he genuinely enjoys being a doctor and is very popular with his patients.

Beyond Dr. Zayne seeing his friend turn into a wanderer and being forced to kill him, we don't know much about his relationship with his teacher or the arctic. We do know that he still visits the arctic from time to time to help Dr. Noah with his research, and we can only assume it has something to do with protocores. I think it might specifically have something to do with humans being transformed into wanderers, but that's wild speculation on my part.

Dawnbreaker Timeline

The concept of Dawnbreaker Zayne is introduced in the annecdote Still In Dark. It is set in an unknown time and place, but it is confirmed to not be Linkon as Dawnbreaker mentions wanting to visit there, but that it was destroyed a long time ago.

In this timeline in this unknown city, wanderer attacks are so common that people don't really leave their homes. Most menial jobs (such as staffing convenience stores) are done by robots and most people find their entertainment through VR.

It is known by the government of this unknown place that prolonged exposure to protocores and their energy transforms people into wanderers. These infected can then kill and infect other humans. When Dawnbreaker Zayne was 12 years old, he watched his adopted father transform into a wanderer and turn his mother. He used his evol to kill them both to save himself. This is also when he begins dreaming of Dr. Zayne, though he is much more interested in MC.

In the anecdote he is under investigation by the police as a suspected serial killer, as he has been mercy killing infected people as they transform so they can't turn more people. This includes children, which is what Dr. Zayne ends up dreaming of in Never Ending Winter.

The police officer investigating Dawnbreaker ends up learning about the infected, and destroys his investigative files after realizing his superiors know about these wanderers. He wishes Dawnbreaker Zayne luck in finding a solution before things get too far gone.

This anecdote does two very important things. First and foremost it confirms/introduces the concept that some wanderers used to be human, and that this transformation is caused by prolonged exposure to protocores. The second is that it suggests that MC is not a part of that world's timeline. Why is not clear, but Dawnbreaker doesn't know who she is, just that from what he can see in his dreams he wishes to be loved by her. I mentioned that Dr. Zayne hates Dawnbreaker, but it doesn't seem that Dawnbreaker hates him at all. He likes to watch medical dramas, and seems to genuinely want to be his other self even if he is aware that's impossible in his current reality.

Forseer Timleine

I haven't made much progress on this one, so we are going straight to bullet points on things I think are relevant.

Each of the myths cards take place in a world called Philos. It is unclear if this place is a planet, a country, or just a city as each Myths card seems to have a distinct cultural feel and history to it. I am leaning towards planet as Xavier is an alien and refers to earth as if he is foreign to it.

Xavier and MC also talk about how Philos is dying in his Myths card because of the wanderers, and that the wanderers will eventually leave Philos and make there way somewhere else.

It is a commonly liked head cannon that Dr. Zayne became a cardiologist because of MC's heart condition, and while that still might be true I think it might be a sort of residual desire to help her from his Forseer self, as MC breaks into his prison to try and cure her heart condition, which is slowly turning her into ice.

... forseer's MC is a little out there tbh. Kind of out of pocket and honestly I love that for her. If I was told I only had 3 years left to live my reaction wouldn't be to break into the Vatican to see if the Pope had any reliquaries that could prove my doctor wrong but I guess we all deal with grief differently.

I talked in the original timeline about the fact that all versions of Zayne like jasmine, but I am noting it here again as he agrees to not kill MC if she can convince his houseplant to bloom. Did I mention she broke into his house? Did I mention she did this practically claiming to be a government official? Of course Zayne is just going to shrug off her antics, even if he doesn't remember it he has seen worse.

My last sort of point I want to make here is that Xavier has a bit of throw away dialogue in battle asking whether or not something is "immortal or undying." Forseer Zayne refers to himself as undying, and has an issue with controlling his ice evol to the point it should be killing him, but isn't for some reason. It is also implied in MC's dialogue he is being used as a tool by Philos, which is something she can't stand. As for why this distinction is important, as of this point in time, I don't think Zayne is aware of his life as the Forseer because he is not immortal, unlike Rafayel or Xavier. When the Forseer dies, his memory of his life will go with him while Rafayel keeps his and Xavier- Well he just hasn't died yet.

Dr. Zayne and Dawnbreaker Zayne might be aware of each other because they still posses the same gift that the Forseeer (allegedly) does, or it might just be because of their connection to the MC, or because of the rift in spacetime above Linkon. It might even be a combination of all three. Whatever it is, it's a lot less complicated to understand than whatever the hell Rafayel has going on and makes me wonder how exactly all of these various timelines fit into place.

When I get more familiar with the rest of the lore I will make a very pretty diagram on my white board complete with color coding because this story has me in a chokehold for no good reason.

Final Thoughts

While I was thinking about all this, an idle thought came to mind that maybe the three current ROs sort of represent the past (Rafayel), the present (Zayne), and the future (Xavier) even though all three arguably have some sort of past with the MC in their Myths cards. The mystery fourth RO would then represent an alternate reality in my deluded mind, maybe a split timeline created by MC's current actions???

I am doubtful that the events in Linkon city we are currently experiencing are meant to be MC's "origin point" (or whatever timeline she originally came from), but that just makes me wonder what the hell is. I want to know who or what caused the deepspace tunnel to appear. I said on another post that it probably has something to do with the destruction of Philos, and while I do sort of still think that I have no real reason to beyond a hunch.